For The Love Of My Father
by TheDreamyOne
Summary: [Coauthored by Ardeth Saunders] Two precious gifts are given. Two precious gifts are taken away. [DonovanLoralei FarronKara Fic]
1. Prison is Calling

**TITLE****:  "For the Love of My Father"**

**AUTHORS****:  Dreamy and Ardeth Saunders**

**RATING****:  R [Language, violence, and sexual situations]**

**SUMMARY****:  Two precious gifts are given.  Two precious gifts are taken away.**

**GENRE****:  Drama, Angst, Romance**

**DISCLAIMER****:  _UC:  Undercover _and its cast of characters belong to the writers, creators, NBC, etc.  NO infringement intended.  All other characters are original and belong to the authors.**

*  *  *

PRISON IS CALLING 

Donovan looked up as he saw his brother approaching.  He thought it ironic that they had met like this once before, when Farron was thinking of proposing to Kara.  Now, they were meeting again, both of them married, and both fathers.  It still boggled his mind sometimes.  Actually, Donovan was proud of his twin.  Brittany and Bryce were a healthy four months old and growing like little weeds.  Farron had taken to child rearing as if meant for it, and Donovan knew that he had had nothing to worry about.  He was turning out to be a loving and wonderful father.  Donovan had warned Farron that before he knew it, his twins would be up walking.  Inwardly, he lamented over that thought.  Yes, they'd be walking, just like Tristan was now.  His son was all over the place, testing out his new ability with relish, and driving his parents insane.  Tristan was more or less a combination of him and his wife, but he was leaning more toward Loralei, with the exception of his skin tone and eyes.  Then there was Rachel, six months away from turning three, right about preschool age.  Every day, she grew more and more like him, but with her mother's fierce independence.  Yet, she still couldn't resist a snuggle or three from her parents, her aunt, and uncle.  He smiled a trifle sadly.  _They grow up so fast._

He stood as Farron drew closer to the table.  As was custom, the two brothers shared a brief hug before taking their seats.  "How are the babies," Donovan asked once Farron settled in his chair.

Immediately, a goofy smile spread across his face.  "They are amazing, Frank.  I love them so much, and can't wait to spend time with them.  I know you've heard this before, but I've never felt so strongly about anything or anyone in my life."

Donovan smiled a little.  "Becoming a father does that to a man.  It definitely did it to me."  He reached over and grabbed his water glass.  He drank a little and then fixed his eyes on Farron's face.  "Farron, I don't want to scare you or cause you undue worry, but considering your past, I feel this is something I should speak to you about.  You have more than one enemy floating around who now knows of your connection with me.  I wouldn't be afraid to say that they're also probably aware of your marriage and the babies.  I think you should take a leave of absence from work and take your family to stay with Anya for a few weeks.  It'll give me enough time to ensure that everyone is still where they're supposed to be."

Farron took his own thoughtful sip of water.  "I sincerely appreciate your concern, Frank, but I think you're worrying about nothing.  Most of the gang retreated back to Colombia, and those who didn't make it are in prison.  I was a minor character to them, a runner.  They have no interest in my wife or children."

Donovan sighed.  "Farron, I understand that, but you know yourself that the first thing they look for is a family.  Look what nearly happened before and it could easily happen again.  You're settled, and I'm glad.  But don't let that cloud your judgment, because if you do, you might find yourself in trouble again."

For the first time in many months, Farron found himself a little irritated, angry almost.  "Frank, my past is exactly that," he said calmly, but his dark brown eyes were flashing angrily.  "I try not to think about it anymore.  You said it yourself, I'm a changed man, and a changed man I shall stay.  Please don't bring this back up when I've put it away."

Frank sighed.  Apparently, his brother was taking everything and twisting it around.  He understood his sensitivity, understood where he was coming from.  "Farron, I'm aware of that, but I'm trying to make you see…"

He interrupted.  "See what, Frank?  See something I loathe now?  For once in my life, I'm painfully happy.  For once in my life, when I look in the mirror, I see a man, not a monster."

Donovan could clearly see that Farron was about to make his escape.  He had, in fact, made ready to stand.  Sighing, Donovan said, "Farron, please."  He watched as his twin sat back in his chair and crossed his arms stubbornly across his chest.  "I'm not trying to bring up your past unnecessarily.  Our relationship is not about revenge or grudges, not anymore.  I say these things to you, because you _are _my brother, and I love you.  Again, I also know how I feel about my own wife and children.  Please, Farron, just take the time off, go to Florida, and show off your children.  Anya hasn't seen them yet.  I can poke around and get back to you in a few weeks.  You're a changed man, a legitimate one, and they don't like that.  I, myself, couldn't imagine what I'd do if anything happened to my wife or children.  If nothing else, humor your little brother."

Calming down and conceding for now, he nodded.  "Okay, Frank, I'll discuss it with Kara, and try to pass it off as a second honeymoon.  I don't feel comfortable telling her what my motivation is.  She's aware of what I did, but she knows it's no longer a part of me, and in the past is where I'd like it to stay."

After their impromptu meeting, Donovan made his way home and let himself into the house.  He saw Loralei's car parked in the driveway, but didn't hear any noise inside.  They were either in the backyard or Loralei had somehow convinced the kids to take a nap.  Since Tristan had gotten old enough to play, it was difficult separating him from his sister without a huge struggle.  When he thought of how close Tristan and Rachel were now, he couldn't imagine what his son would do once Rachel began preschool.  He went out to the back deck and saw nothing there.  Curiously, he climbed the staircase and checked out the bedrooms.  Tucked away in their beds, each child was completely knocked out.  He had no idea how Loralei had managed such a Herculean task.  He stuck his head into their bedroom, expecting to find his wife taking her own nap, but she wasn't in there, either.  He had started back down the hall when he heard splashes coming from the master bathroom.  Not bothering to knock, he entered the room and smiled.  Perhaps she had inherently known [as wives sometimes do] when he would be back home.  Loralei was immersed to her shoulders in water in the gigantic sunken tub.  When she heard him enter, she leaned her head back as far as it would go and saw a few parts of his anatomy.

"How did you manage to get the kids asleep?  Baby, don't tell me you gave them sleeping pills?  I'd hate to have to arrest you," Donovan said with a smile.

She turned in the tub, balancing on her hands, and looked up at him.  "Nope.  I did nothing illegal.  I took them to see their cousins earlier and they ran themselves ragged.  By the time I got them home, they were more than ready to take a nap.  I thought I'd get a nice long bath in before they woke up and started again.  Their energy amazes me."  She sighed softly, and then turned in the tub in the opposite direction to face him.  She smiled at him, her grin sexy, almost lascivious.  "Do you need a bath, my love?  I have that special rough sponge you like."  

He laughed and shook his head.  Kneeling down toward her, he said, "You're going to kill me some day, you know that, don't you?  You wonder where the kids get their energy?  I'm looking at her right now."

She shrugged.  "Okay," she sighed, "I asked."

He made moves to stand up and leave, but before he could, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him right over, making an enormous splash.  He landed nearly on top of her.  "I can't believe you did this to me again," he said against her lips.  "Toe in the pants again, okay?  Please baby?"

*  *  *

Farron entered the apartment quietly, expecting Kara to be napping along with the babies.  It was a respite she took great advantage of and he had found her asleep on the tiny bed they had crammed into the twins' nursery nearly every day.  Today was different, however.  He laughed softly watching her as she bopped around the kitchen; her long blonde hair was pulled into a sloppy ponytail and whipped crazily about her head as she moved.  Dressed in shorts and a half shirt, she wore headphones and was dancing around as she prepared dinner, quite oblivious to his presence.  

He sobered instantly recalling his conversation with his brother.  How could he approach this without bringing up the possibility of his past being a danger to her or the babies?  _Cover it up; gloss it over.  In other words, lie to her,_ the nasty little voice in the back of his brain spat.  Lie.  He didn't want to do it, could barely stand to think of it.  They had promised each other their relationship would always be one of honesty and understanding.  He was about to break that promise and he hated himself for it.

He approached her slowly, unable to believe the difference time had made on his thought patterns.  There was a time when lying was a way of life.  Betrayal was acceptable and done often.  Now, one little white lie, that was only meant to save his wife from worry, was eating at him like a cancer.  Farron shook his head in disbelief as he reached out and softly touched Kara's shoulder from behind.

Kara squealed and spun around quickly.  She clutched a hand to her heart while trying to catch her breath.  "Jesus, Farron, you scared me to death!"  She accused him lightly as she removed the headphones and tossed them onto the counter.  She moved eagerly into his embrace.  Winding her arms around his neck, she laced her fingers into his long, silky hair.  

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her ear.  His lips trailed sensually along her jaw until his captured hers.  He heard her moan within the kiss and his hands trailed purposefully down her back.  Just as he was about to slide his fingers beneath the waistband of her shorts, her hands covered his, stopping his progress.

"Dinner's almost ready," she whispered against his lips before drawing his bottom lip between hers to suck on the delicate flesh with erotic intent.

"Damn it, I don't want food," he cursed good-naturedly.  "I want you, love."  

Kara grinned knowingly.  "And…you shall have me," she promised.  "After dinner, after the twins are fed and put down for the night...I'm all yours."

"I don't know if I can wait that long," he argued playfully, slapping her bottom as he moved past her to the cupboard.  "But...I suppose I have no choice." 

"Sure you do," she said, laughing as she watched him pull down the plates and bowls and carry them to the table.  "We could skip dinner..."

Farron turned his head slightly to look over his shoulder.  A mischievous glint danced in his eyes for a moment, but left quickly.  He turned and made his way back to her side, helping her remove the delicious smelling lasagna from the oven.  "Actually, there is something I would like to discuss with you while things are quiet."  

Something in the tone of his voice immediately had Kara worried, but the calm, loving expression on his face belied his tone.  She shook it off, passing it off as her imagination.  "Of course, darling.  What is it?"  

He watched Kara finish setting the table while the lasagna cooled a bit.  He reached over to the wine rack and pulled down a bottle of merlot.  He poured two glasses and carried them over to join Kara as she placed the food on the table.  

He handed her a glass and kissed her cheek lightly before sitting down.  "I was thinking that it might be nice to visit my sister Anya."  His eyes locked onto hers as she looked up from her food.  "The twins are growing so quickly and she has not seen them.  And we have not seen her since the wedding."

For a brief moment, she thought she saw a shadow of unease flash across Farron's face.  She wondered absently why she kept feeling something odd was happening with him, when there was absolutely no reason for it.  "I think it's a splendid idea, Farron."

"Really?"

Kara nodded.  While the wedding had been a glorious time in their lives, it had been so hectic that she had not really had the chance to spend much time with Anya and her family.  It would be wonderful to see them all again.  "Really.  When were you thinking we should plan this?"

"Soon," he answered quickly.  He smiled easily at her, relieved he had gotten through it without spilling the actual reason he was asking for the getaway.  _Yes, dear, remember back to the time you were beaten and taken by the Huete family?  Eh, guess what?  Dear brother thinks my old la familia may once again resurface and come after you and the twins.  Estúpido._  "I will call Anya this evening to make the arrangements."

Kara blinked.  He certainly was in a hurry to go on this trip.  "Farron, is there something you're not telling me?"

He plastered a serene smile on his face, inwardly cursing himself for thinking it would be so easy.  "Only that I love you, and I'm hoping to pawn the children off onto Anya while we're there so that I might ravage you as often as possible."

Kara dropped her fork onto her plate and hopped up from her chair.  Surprised by her actions, Farron had instinctively pushed back from the table.  That movement allowed her to straddle him easily as she sat on his lap.  His deep chuckle sent shivers throughout her entire body as she pressed against him, kissing him fiercely.  "Forget the food," she gasped, coming up for air.  "Ravage me now!"

"My pleasure," he assured her.  Standing and bringing her up along with him, he lifted her into his arms and carried her off to their room.

*  *  *

The federal prison loomed over him like a gigantic gray monster.  He had never thought he would wind up here, visiting his father behind those cruel, institutional walls.  It was unfair.  Jesus Ortiz had brought many good things to his people and his son, Raphael, could not understand why the _federales_ had swooped in and clipped his wings.  He hated them, hated them all, but his ire was focused more on one man, Mateo Luis.  Of course now, Mateo went by his _true name, Farron Donovan.  No one in __la familia had ever suspected that Mateo was the brother of a __federale.  No one had suspected that this brother was a twin.  However, it explained the confusion in the airport when their dead _hermano_, Pablo Domiguez, had seen him with his woman.  It had been Frank Donovan all along.  All of them had heard of him, but not many had actually seen him.  Then again, when Mateo was within the fold, he altered his appearance, becoming a much different man than the one he had just recently seen.  That man bore a strong resemblance to Frank Donovan, actually looking like the twin that he was.  _

Raphael had seethed in anger when he happened upon Mateo [he would never think of the yellow dog as anything _but _Mateo] so very innocently enough.  Raphael was at the airport readying to take a flight out to Chicago to see his father.  He then noticed a familiar figure standing with a fragile looking woman and two babies, probably no older than four months, if that.  He didn't want to draw any closer than he had to, because he wasn't sure if Mateo would remember him.  After all, it had been a while and Raphael had changed tremendously.  However, Mateo had not.  He was the same greasy, lying pig that he ever was, insisting on having some _puta on his arm as if he were some type of gigolo.  Yet, the scene was different.  Mateo had somehow associated himself with a woman who was obviously a mother.  It struck him odd.  Mateo had never expressed a desire to be a father, in fact, he was always more than careful with the women he took into his bed.  As far as Raphael knew, Mateo was the only __hermano in _la familia_ who hadn't fathered at least one child during his tenure.  That was not to say he didn't leave his fair share of used women behind, but at least he never turned one into a single mother.  Another errant thought struck him.  Could this woman be his wife and the babies his children?  He shook his head.  Impossible._

Raphael had the sudden desire to get closer to Mateo and this woman.  He wanted to see the infants and the woman.  More importantly, he wanted to get a look at Mateo's left-hand ring finger.  If he were, indeed, married and a father, wouldn't it be a lovely thought?  Wouldn't it make lovely leverage?  He drew nearer and then nearer still, keeping to the periphery.  He didn't want to arouse any suspicion in Mateo.  Mateo was good; he could sniff trouble a thousand feet away.  However, today, he seemed totally and completely distracted by this woman and the two infants.  Casually, Raphael grabbed a discarded newspaper and pretended to read it as he sauntered as close as he dared.  He could hear the low tones of Mateo's voice as he spoke to the woman and then fussed ceaselessly over the babies.  As Raphael moved closer, he realized that Mateo was speaking a bit louder than he first thought.  The fucker was bold.  As sickening as it was to listen to, he leaned up against a column directly behind them and waited.  Mateo was talking to the infants going on and on about how much he loved them, how he had never thought he would feel like he did right at that moment.  _Can you believe how beautiful they are?  Look at these lovely, lovely babies, Farron said.   Then, Raphael heard a distinct Spanish phrase leaving Mateo's lips:  __Corazón de mi vida.   He had basically told the woman she was the center of his life.  She was more to Mateo than some __puta he had picked up at a bar.  The babies were more to him than the children of this pale woman.  Taking a huge chance at discovery, he came from around the column just a bit more.  He walked around and to the side of the couple, still within perfect earshot of them.  The babies were dark and had black hair.  He couldn't see them up close, but if he could, both would probably have chocolate brown eyes.  He glanced around again and saw a gold wedding band on Mateo's left-hand ring finger.  Its mate, along with an engagement ring, was on the finger of the woman.  __They cannot stop touching each other, Raphael thought disgustedly, _I have never seen one man touch one woman so much without being in bed with her_.  An evil smile danced upon Raphael Ortiz's lips.  Mateo was married now and he had children.  An enemy was no good to _la __familia_ if he did not have something that could be exploited.  Mateo Luis had plenty now and it was time to bring him back for the punishment he deserved.  As soon as he saw his father, he would spread the news.  It was time to bring Mateo home for the last time._

Raphael had thought of that scene every day.  He simply couldn't wait to tell his father.  He felt like a little boy eager to brag about his strikeout record.  Snarling with disgust, he dropped all his pocket change and car keys into a little plastic basket.  He passed through the metal detectors, never setting them off, and then retrieved his items at the end of the line.  He was forced to wait for several other visitors before they were taken back.  Raphael hated this part of the visitation process.  He wasn't an animal; his father wasn't an animal.  There was simply no justice in the world.  Mateo should be behind the same bars, in the same facility.  He had no right living in a warm, comfortable environment while his father languished.  When at least five or six more people were standing around in a little crowd, a stony faced guard led them through a long hallway where they were stopped again.  Yet another stony-faced guard stamped their hands with ultraviolet ink [_so that you cannot escape my dear_, Raphael thought crazily].  They were then led outside where they walked no further than two or three blocks to another tall and imposing building.  Once inside, their hands had to be checked under scanners, and then they were led over to a huge visitation room where several families and convicts awaited.  Raphael sat and awaited his father patiently.  He couldn't wait to tell him of his discovery.  

After fifteen minutes, Raphael looked up as he saw his father entering.  His heart nearly shattered.  He was looking at a broken man dressed in a tan prison suit.  It nearly killed him to see his father so vulnerable and ineffectual.  His hatred for Mateo and his family grew as Jesus made each step.  Raphael didn't wait for his father to approach him.  He was up and out of his chair in a shot.  He embraced his father and called 'Poppy' repeatedly.  It was the same thing at each and every visit, in each and every letter he wrote.  Raphael loved his father so, had ached to follow in his footsteps.  He had built up his life for that, and he wasn't far away from making his dream a reality.  Arm in arm, he and his father walked over to the expanse of plastic chairs that stretched from one end of the wall to the other.  After the two men sat down, Raphael felt the first of many tears beginning to form in his eyes.  The tears went on and on.  

"Let me look you, Raphael," Jesus said.  His son was so strong and handsome.  He stood well over six feet tall and had long hair that he kept brushed back away from his face.  His eyes were dark, almost black, and he possessed the features of his great Incan ancestors.  He couldn't ask for a more beautiful, powerful son.  "It has been much too long."

"Yes, Poppy, it has," he said, his voice overcome with emotion.  He had so much to tell his father, so much to say.  "I came solely to see you, Father, but there is something we must discuss before our visit goes any further.  The dog that helped send you here, Mateo Luis, he is not in prison.  He is a free man, walking the streets, happy, and oblivious to all that surrounds him.  I swore to you that I'd hurt him as much as he has hurt you, as much as he has hurt our family."

Shocked, Ortiz gazed stupidly at his son.  Surely he was simply talking out of his ass.  What did he mean Mateo had walked away?  He was part of the gang.  It mattered little that he had lingered with _federales_.  He hated Mateo, hated him as much as he hated the fuckers who put him away.  "What are you saying, Raphael?  What is this about Mateo?  Tell me."

Raphael sighed.  This was the hardest part of the game.  His father was precious to him and this information would kill him for sure.  "Mateo wasn't Mateo.  It was his name with _la __familia, but his true name is Farron Donovan, and his brother is Frank Donovan.  The man we knew as Mateo isn't Spanish at all.  He simply blended in.  He helped put you away and helped lock away another man we know well, Alca Huete.  Father, we have much leverage.  I saw with my own eyes.  He has a wife and children.  He goes by his true name; his twin brother is a _federale_.  We all know Frank Donovan, Poppy.  What if Mateo had been playing us longer than we thought?  What if he had been playing Huete?  I remember your stories of Mateo, how he wouldn't take a life.  None of it makes sense.  With your support, with your guidance, I have a plan that will bring Mateo back to the fold.  For you, Father, I want to bring him pain he has never experienced ever before.  Give me the word.  I have dozens of men hungry for revenge and Mateo burned most of them."_

Ortiz sat silently and brooded over the words that had spilled from his son's mouth.  Mateo Luis…first, he was a coward for not killing, and now he was a yellow dog ratfink with a _federale _twin brother.  "Who do we go for first, Raphael, his wife or his children?"

"The children, Poppy.  The wife is secondary.  Mateo never had any problems getting a _puta_ when he needed one.  I will coordinate it.  It will take some time to get everyone together on this, but it is going to be done, that I can promise you."     

--

To be continued…


	2. Up Up and Away

UP, UP, AND AWAY

With Farron, Kara, and the twins safely in Florida, Donovan began 'poking' around as he promised.  It hadn't taken long to receive his answers.  What information he couldn't find on his own, he received with assistance from Cody.  He did this discreetly, of course, because Shoemaker was still an ass.  Although Donovan had basically changed his mind about quitting, Shoemaker continued to be the same selfish bastard he always was.

Donovan stood in his office, staring out the window.  It was late, probably after nine or ten, and he had no idea why he was still here instead of at home.  He had called Loralei a few hours ago, promising to be home before ten, but he wasn't sure he was going to make it.  Nothing either he or Cody had found indicated that any of Farron's enemies were still in operation.  Most of the heavy hitters were in prison, including Alca Huete and Jesus Ortiz.  Those were the only two Donovan was worried about at this time, because the rest of them were nothing more than gang members.  However, he couldn't help but feel that he was missing something or someone.  _What is it?  Where is it?  _He didn't want to fail his brother or his family, and he thought he had done as much as he could.  It was almost time to call Farron with the all clear.  Yet, he still couldn't shake away the thought that all was not good.  Sighing heavily, he pulled himself away from the window.  It was time to go home before his wife came after his ass.

As soon as Donovan made it home, he went directly upstairs and checked in on the kids.  For the time being, both of them were knocked out.  He placed gentle kisses on each of their foreheads, Tristan completely unaware of his presence, Rachel stirring only slightly.  After a few moments, he moved away from their rooms and toward his own.  Loralei hadn't yet gone to sleep.  She was sitting up in bed, glancing at the newspaper, probably focusing on the classifieds.  She wanted a job, but wasn't so hot on the idea of teaching again.  Her experience at Mord had soured her.  It was a shame, really, because she was so bright and sharp.  He noticed that her laptop was beside her, but she had apparently shut it down for the night.  She looked up when she sensed his presence.  Loralei smiled up at him and folded the paper neatly before flinging it to the floor.

"You're late," she said, her voice tinged with light, but teasing, accusation.

"Sorry," he said, grinning broadly as he approached his side of the bed.  He sat down and silently began the process of getting undressed.  

Loralei stared at the back of his head for a moment.  She was certain he knew she was looking at him.  "Babe?  Are you okay?"

He nodded.  "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Really?"

He chuckled and shook his head.  "You're not going to let this go, are you?"  It was a dumb question.  Of course, she wouldn't let it go.  She never did, but that was why he loved her so damn much.  "I'm going to call Farron and give him the all clear to come back home, but you know me, always suspicious.  I just want to make sure I've covered all the bases."

"Come on, baby.  Frank Donovan?  Not thorough?  Impossible." 

"LD, you're biased."

She laughed.  "Okay, maybe a little."

He stood and faced her while he removed his slacks.  "No.  I'd say a lot."

Loralei moved the laptop off the bed, thinking that Donovan was going to slide into bed beside her.  Instead, he leaned directly over her, reaching for the phone.  He didn't want to hesitate another moment.  Silently, she watched as he settled beside her before his thumb began punching out a number.  Curiously, she watched as he listened for the other party to pick up.  There was something else, something he was uneasy about, but at the moment, he didn't want to share.

Donovan ran his tongue over his lips before speaking.  "Hi, baby," he said.  "Where's your mom?"  In the background, he could hear his sister scolding his niece for getting out of bed.  After a moment, he heard a tired 'hello.'  "It's okay, Anya, it's just Frank.  Is Farron around?"

Loralei watched curiously and listened to the one-sided conversation.  She picked up the most important parts of the call, including 'it's okay…bring your family back.'  She had known he was poking around on his brother's behalf, but she didn't quite understand his guarded cautiousness.  He spoke to his brother for about fifteen or twenty minutes and then ended the call.  Instead of reaching across her to replace the phone, he put it on the nightstand on his side of the bed.  He made moves to get up, but she took hold of his arm.

"Wait a second," she said.  "I don't want to nag, but something is going on.  What is it?"

Donovan settled back on the bed again.  "Nothing, I promise.  It's just a nerve or two out of whack, that's all."  He noticed the look on her face.  He had seen it many, many times throughout the duration of their relationship, had even begun to notice it on the face of their daughter.  It was that 'I don't believe you, I'm about to blow' thing.  "Loralei, really.  It's okay."  She nodded, satisfied for the moment, and released his arm.  A soft cry emitted from down the hall.  At almost the same time, they locked eyes and said 'Tristan.'  "I'll get him," he said, "I probably woke him up when I came in."

She was going to protest, but before she could say a word, he was in his robe and out the door.  His cries grew softer and then softer still before he quieted completely.  Loralei came out of bed and padded softly down the hall.  She peeked in at Rachel, the lightest of sleepers, but she hadn't moved.  She stopped at Tristan's door and watched for a moment.  Donovan had cradled the boy in his arms and carried him to a nearby recliner.  Tristan had fallen asleep against his father's chest, his fist full of Donovan's robe.  This wasn't an unusual scene.  It occurred almost nightly.  However, Loralei felt as if she was witnessing this for the first time, and she could have sworn there were tears in her husband's eyes.

*  *  *

Farron pressed the call button near his comfortable seat in the First Class section of Flight 1208 headed for Chicago.  He and Kara were returning from vacationing in Florida.  They had a wonderful three-week visit with Farron's sister, Anya, who absolutely doted on the twins the entire time they were there.  He didn't mind that so much, it gave Kara a chance to rest.  

A secretive smile touched his lips as he thought back over the last three weeks.  The extra time Kara had to spend with him while Anya fawned over Bryce and Brittany was a welcome side effect of the vacation.  No, he didn't mind that at all.  

He loved his children more than life itself, but there were times when he had missed his wife's attention during the first couple months after the twins' arrival.  That situation was improving as the months passed, and these past couple of weeks had only given them that much more time to be together.  

He knew it was selfish, something that spilled over from his former lifestyle, but he couldn't help it.  Kara had done something to him, changed him, messed up his whole mindset to where she was what he needed the most in the world.  His Shel, along with their precious babies, had become the main focus of his life, and he was rather selfish when it came to the time he was able to have with them.  

His gaze fell upon Kara as she repositioned Brittany in her arms.  The babies were about to get fussy, and not quietly either.  It was time for their feeding.  He noticed the little pinched look on Kara's brow.  It had lessened over the months, but every once in awhile he caught its reappearance.  Doctor Berger had informed her that her breast milk didn't contain enough vitamins and nutrients for the infants and they would have to be bottle-fed.  Her hormones had taken over at that point and she cried for days, feeling as if she were less than a woman.  He switched Bryce to his other arm and leaned over and pressed a tender kiss to his wife's brow.  

Kara released a saddened sigh.  _How does he do that,_ she wondered silently.  "I'm okay, baby."  No, she wasn't, but it was getting better.  After all, many women couldn't, or choose not to, breast-feed.  Not a big deal.  She slid a tender finger along Brittany's soft cheek and listened to her contented coo.  She smiled up at Farron with an amused look on her face.  "Such a prelude to the noisy squalls that are about to be issued forth from those lungs."

"Don't I know it, _querida_," he replied, winking. 

"Is there something I can do for you?"

Looking up, Farron saw one of the First Class flight attendants standing before them.  He had glanced at her nametag when they first boarded.  It was a rule he learned many years ago.  People respond in a more genial manner when their names are used.  He offered the semi-attractive brunette a friendly smile.  "Yes, Carrie.  When we boarded, I had asked you about heating the babies' formula?"

Carrie leaned her tall frame town a smidge when she saw Mrs. Donovan pull two bottles from the diaper bag at her feet.  Her eyes wandered to the infants and she found a smile touching her lips.  The twins were completely adorable and Carrie was immediately taken with them from the time the family boarded the plane.  More than once she had caught herself just watching them while their parents lavished attention on them.  Her co-worker admonished her a time or two because she really should have been attending to the other patrons.  She accepted the bottles from Mrs. Donovan and stood upright.  "I'll be back in a moment," she assured them.

Kara leaned toward Farron and rested her head on his shoulder.  She tenderly bounced Brittany in one arm as she reached over and smoothed the dark silky hair on Bryce's little head.  His rich brown eyes focused on his mother's face and he smiled happily.  She turned her head slightly and pressed a soft kiss to Farron's neck.  "Did I ever tell you that you make beautiful babies?"  His deep chuckle warmed her soul and sent shivers over her entire body.  

"I couldn't do it without you, love," he answered adoringly.  "When we get home, I think we should talk about hiring someone to help around the house.  Taking care of the twins is a lot of work for you."  He shook his head when she began to protest.  "I'm just saying, we're moving from the apartment into your family home.  It's a hell of a lot larger than the apartment and too much for you to handle _and_ take care of the children."

Kara sat back in her seat as she thought over his suggestion.  He was very sweet to want to ease the burden, not just for her, but also for them both.  He had taken on as much of the child rearing and household chores as she did, and it wasn't as if they couldn't afford to hire help.  

Farron continued to work steadily, although she had stopped working completely.  He hated when they used her money for anything, insisting that he should be the one to provide for her, but there were times he would relent and allow her to dip into her Trust and spend frivolously.  It was something she didn't make a habit of because she never wanted to injure his pride.  He worked hard to overcome his former lifestyle and the last thing he wanted was to be labeled as a kept man.  No, she would never do that to him.  

*  *  *

"What ya got there?"

Carrie started the microwave and turned to see the woman she shared First Class duties with.  Sienna Morgan, a looks-to-die-for leggy blonde, eyed her curiously.  "Just warming the formula for the Donovan twins."

Sienna pursed her lips and moved to the curtain and pulled it back slightly.  "The couple in the first row on the right side of the cabin?"  

Carrie nodded and busied herself filling the drink cart.  "Yes.  Aren't those twins beautiful?"

"I guess so," she replied uncaringly.  "Who asked you to do this?"

"Mr. Donovan...when they boarded," Carrie answered.

"Hmm…catch his accent?  So thick and sexy...he could ask me to do _anything_ and I'd willingly comply."

"He has a nice voice," Carrie agreed.  "They're a nice couple, don't you think?"

Sienna frowned.  Was Carrie insane?  The last thing she wanted to think about was the _couple._  Now, ask her what she thought about the man, and Sienna would be more than willing to talk.  Tall, dark, and handsome barely summed him up.  He was dressed smartly in navy slacks and a white button down shirt that sensually emphasized his dark toned skin.  "Who can see past the guy's devastating looks to think about the wife?  And, oh God, don't get me started on his _hair_.  It looks like long waves of silk.  And, ohmigawd, those full lips and the beard and mustache?  Jesus, to feel that between your legs...hell, Carrie, sometimes I wonder if you have eyes in your head."  

Carrie blushed at Sienna's lewd comments about Mr. Donovan and shrugged away the ones directed at her lack of taste.  "Come on, Sienna.  I'm not stupid.  He's gorgeous, but anyone can easily see he's crazy about his wife."

"Looks can be deceiving," Sienna snipped lightly before stepping through the curtain to take dinner orders.  She glanced back at Carrie who was removing the bottles of formula from the microwave and shook her head.  Carrie was a sweet girl who was more than a little on the naïve side.  She, on the other hand, couldn't get the image of that man's head between her legs out of her mind.

*  *  *

Kara continued to toss around Farron's suggestion.  She didn't want to go the route of a nanny, as she and John had been raised that way.  If nothing else, she wanted her children to know that they were first and foremost in the lives of their parents.  "To help with cleaning only," Kara insisted firmly, turning her gaze back onto Farron.

"Agreed," he responded, leaning over to kiss her lightly.  "Love you," he whispered before deepening the kiss.

Carrie approached the Donovans and cleared her throat softly.  She smiled warmly as they broke their kiss and looked up at her.  _Sienna is **so** wrong.  You can't fake these emotions._  "Here you go," she said simply, handing over the bottles of formula.

Kara thanked her as she took the bottles that Carrie had so thoughtfully wrapped in a cloth.  She handed one to Farron.  The twins' appetites were growing and soon formula wouldn't satisfy them.  Brittany finished her bottle first and Kara tossed a small towel over her shoulder to protect her linen suit as she burped the baby.  While she patted Brittany's back softly, she watched as Farron dropped the empty bottle he held into the diaper bag and shifted Bryce toward his shoulder.  Just as he pulled a cloth from the bag, Bryce emitted a liquid sounding burp, and to Daddy's dismay, he now had a shoulder full of baby spit-up.

Farron wrinkled his nose at Bryce as he wiped the baby's chin.  "Thanks so much, _niño._"  His laughter mingled along with Kara's.  "Guess someone's not all that fond of flying."

"Guess not," Kara agreed, amused.  "Pass him over..." 

"I'll take him."

Kara looked up at Carrie.  "Thank you." 

Carrie nodded and took the infant as he was passed to her.  She was about to suggest Mr. Donovan go into the galley to clean up when Sienna approached.

"Come with me, Mr. Donovan, and you can clean that mess from your shirt," Sienna offered, motioning toward the galley.

Farron nodded as he rose from his aisle seat.  "Thank you."  

"Do you mind?" Carrie asked, pointing at the seat.

"Not at all," Kara answered, shifting in her seat and repositioning Brittany on her lap.  

"The babies are just beautiful, Mrs. Donovan."

Kara smiled warmly.  "Thank you.  I think so, too, but I'm a bit biased."

"What are their names?" Carrie asked, genuinely curious.

"You're holding Bryce Everett Donovan and this," she said, tapping Brittany's cheek lightly, "is Brittany Kathryn Donovan."  

*  *  *

Sienna turned on the water in the galley's sink and soaked a small towel with warm water.  She dropped a bit of soap onto the cloth before running it over the saturated part of Farron Donovan's shirt.  Oh yes, she had checked on his name.  Even his name exuded a sexual quality.  It was a damn shame he was tied down to one woman.  Or was he?  That was a question she planned to get an answer to.  She licked her bottom lip as more of his shirt became wet from the towel and soon his darkened skin was showing through the soaked material.

Farron became increasingly uncomfortable under the beautiful woman's gaze.  He wasn't stupid.  At that moment, he knew her attention was fixed on his nipple, which she stroked repeatedly through his shirt with the water soaked towel.  "Excuse me," he drawled irritably.  "I really don't need help with this."

"Nonsense," she insisted, glad the sickening smell of baby puke had dissipated.  "You're a passenger under my care," she said seductively.  "And care for you, I will."

She had inched closer to him as she spoke.  Farron felt himself rooted to the spot, unsure of his next move.  The towel had been forgotten as it was dropped carelessly into the sink and her hand rested over the wet material of his shirt.  Sure, he was flattered.  He'd been in this position many times over the years.  Taking women had never been a difficult chore for him.  One look, one word, one touch, and he was in their panties faster than they could bat an eyelash.  Advances such as the ones he was now experiencing had never bothered him before.  In most cases, he would have responded readily to their desire and made it quite clear that he just used them to release a little sexual tension.    

Sienna took his lack of reaction as a go.  She pushed forward, planting her lips firmly against his, her tongue diligently attempting to gain entrance into his mouth.  She was unprepared for the forceful shove she received in response to her kiss.

Appalled, Farron could barely contain the need to spit out the vile taste of her as he angrily ran the back of his hand over his lips.  He hadn't asked for or wanted her advances.  He was certainly not expecting his violent reaction when her lips fell upon his.  It had been quite some time since he had kissed anyone other than Kara, not that he had wanted to.  He didn't.  His reaction only further proved that point.  His wife was the only woman he wanted to touch; the only woman he wanted touching him.

Sienna physically balked at his reaction.  "What the hell?"

Farron shook his head and grabbed up a fresh towel.  He tossed it over his shoulder, covering the damp area of his shirt.  As he brushed past the brazen flight attendant, he murmured a harsh, "Thanks, but no thanks."

Sienna stared after him, incredulous that her advances had been rebuffed.  No one had ever turned _her_ down.  "Jerk," she spat hatefully.  She watched him take the infant from Carrie and silently wished every horrible affliction she could think of onto the shamefully gorgeous creature who had refused her.

*  *  *

Kara spied his irritated scowl the moment he sat down.  "Farron?  Is something wrong?"

Farron glanced across the cabin and his eyes fell upon Sienna.  She boldly stared at him as if daring him to say a word.  He turned his attention back to Kara and leaned over the seat.  "Can you believe that flight attendant over there came on to me while we were in the galley," he whispered into her ear.

Kara sought out the woman to whom Farron referred.  When her eyes locked onto Sienna's, Kara smiled knowingly.  She easily read the jealousy in the other woman's eyes.  "Of course I can believe it, my darling Farron," she whispered in return.  "You are a delicious morsel, after all."  She winked at Sienna before her lips found Farron's, swallowing his chuckle as she kissed him deeply.  When they broke the kiss, breathless, she added, "I'm afraid you'll haunt her dreams for weeks to come, you sexy bastard."

"Shel, you're wicked," he responded, laughing.  His laughter faded when he noted the sober look pass over Kara's face.  "What?"

"Well...did you enjoy her...attention?"  She hadn't wanted to ask, hadn't wanted to feel that jealousy herself, but as she had said, he _was_ a delicious morsel.  

He shook his head and pressed his forehead to hers.  "Not in the least.  You know you're the only woman for me, _querida_."

Kara sighed contentedly.  "I love you, Farron Donovan."

"Love you, too, Kara Donovan."   

*  *  *

Sienna silently seethed as she watched the couple.  She had never been so happy to hear the demanding wails of infants in her life.  At least while they paid attention to the brats, they wouldn't be sucking face.  She rolled her eyes and headed back to the galley.  The stray thought of putting something into his dinner entered her mind, but when she entered the galley, she found Carrie had already set up the cart and the Donovans were on Carrie's side of the cabin.  Damn the luck.

--To be continued…


	3. Dinner Party

DINNER PARTY

Donovan received a phone call from Farron after his and Kara's plane landed.  Donovan wanted to talk to his brother face-to-face about some of the things he had found.  Instead of arranging a restaurant meeting, he invited them over for dinner.  Since he had done so in such short notice, Donovan called his wife and told her about dinner, promising her that he would do all the cooking.  Of course, he knew she wouldn't argue against that and his hunch had been correct.  Although it seemed sneaky, he wanted an opportunity to speak to Farron alone without the benefit of Loralei and Kara's listening in.  It wasn't the brightest idea he'd ever had, especially considering that Kara _was_ the twins' mother, but it was information he didn't believe needed to be tossed about loosely.  After all, he remembered Farron's brutal and abrupt attitude when he brought it up.  The danger was over and all was well, but he wanted to delve into it further, to ensure that Farron stayed sharp and on his toes.

He went home fairly early that day with an armload of supermarket bags.  Loralei took about half a dozen from him and carried them into the kitchen.  Curious as to what he had gotten for dinner, she began to empty the bags.  _Fixings for homemade ravioli and baked ziti_.  Apparently, he intended to cook Italian tonight.  What was it with the Donovan brothers and Italian food?  She glanced at her husband and noticed that he was concentrating hard on unloading his stuff.  

"So, what's the deal?  Any specific reason you invited your brother over for dinner?"

Donovan met her curious gaze.  "That is a very unusual and probing question," he commented lightly.  "Would you accept the theory that I'd simply like to spend time with my brother and his family?"

She shook her head.  "Nope.  I know you love your brother, but something just ain't right.  What is it?  Did you find out more than you thought?"

He laughed.  "You certainly don't mince words, do you?  Truly, it's nothing _that_ serious."

"Shouldn't you be telling Kara some of this?  After all, she _is _the mother of those babies."

Incredibly, she had picked apart his brain and dug in.  "I don't think it's necessary or even warranted to tell her.  It was hard enough trying to tell Farron.  If I'd found something, I wouldn't hesitate."

Loralei nodded solemnly.  "I won't lie to her if she asks, Frank.  Would you deny me the information?"

Pausing, he stopped fooling around with the dinner makings and turned to look at his wife.  He noticed that she was gazing at him steadily, ready to hear his answer.  It didn't immediately come to him.  _Would he?  _Would he actually do that to her?  "Loralei, you know I'd never withhold anything from you when it comes our kids.  Farron and Kara's situation is different than us.  There are different variables involved.  We don't have bloodthirsty drug cartels waiting in the wings to hurt us."  

Loralei took her eyes off her husband's face for a moment and began picking at the stem of a tomato she had plucked out of one of the shopping bags.  After a moment, she focused her eyes on him again and said, "Sometimes, I think you and Farron underestimate Kara's strength.  She is not a sheltered brat.  She isn't a dried orchid beneath a glass case."

"Baby, neither Farron nor I think that of her.  Both of them are oblivious and painfully happy.  I'm _glad_ they are.  I know how it feels.  I don't think shattering that is the way to go right now.  If I had found something, I would include her, but I didn't, and I don't think scaring the shit out of her will do any good.  Don't say anything to her.  I'll continue to monitor the situation and if anything pops up, I'll take care of it."

"I don't like this, Frank.  I don't like it at all."  She wanted to bring up the night she had seen him crying as he held Tristan in his arms.  There had to be more.  As much as he loved his children, he shouldn't be talking like this at all.  "Lie creatively, Frank.  I know you can do it."

She intended to move past him, but he took hold of her arm and brought her around to face him.  "Loralei, wait.  Don't get angry about this.  Kara is your friend.  Do you want her to hurt for no good reason?"

"You're justifying your stand through manipulation?  I didn't think our marriage was set that way."  She sighed, immediately regretful.  "God, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

"I know," he said quietly.  "You can disagree with my motives, but I want to protect them at all costs.  I know how I would feel if anything ever happened to Rachel or Tristan.  The thought scares the hell out of me.  Farron has far more and dangerous enemies than I could ever have in my life.  I don't want to see anything happen to those babies.  It would cut me deeply to see and feel his pain.  Does that make sense?"

The tears with Tristan.  She finally understood the tears.  "It does.  I don't like it, but I'll try.  It's all I can do."

"It's enough," he said.  "By the way, I called Angie.  She's coming tonight to help with the kids."

At that moment, they heard a healthy set of lungs scream out for 'Mommy.'  "It's Rachel.  She just woke up, I suppose.  Tristan will be next."

"Loralei, we're okay, right?"

"For now, yes."  She took her arm out of his grasp and moved toward the stairs.

That evening when Angie arrived, Rachel and Tristan were in the middle of the floor arguing over a toy.  Loralei had just appeared to break it up.  Not two minutes later, Farron, Kara, and the twins arrived.  The three women corralled the children and took off upstairs with them.  Loralei couldn't wait to hold the babies.  They were adorable and reminded her of Rachel when she was an infant.  It had been far too long since she had held a baby.  Rachel, as always, was curious.  She had taken the same attitude when Tristan was born.  Tristan, on the other hand, was jealous.  Through his bewildered eyes, he seemed to be asking his mother what the hell she thought she was doing holding another baby.  _He _was her baby.

"Every time I see them, they get more and more beautiful," Loralei said.

"Maybe you and Frank need to have another," Kara suggested with a smile.

"No, I think two is my limit.  Besides, I have successfully evaded the twin thing twice.  I don't want to take any chances.  I don't know how you do it, Kara."

Kara smiled softly as she reached over to Loralei and smoothed Bryce's wild hair.  "I really couldn't manage if it weren't for Farron's help," she admitted candidly.  "We're looking for a part-time housekeeper now, but I refuse to hire a nanny.  I don't want an outsider raising our babies."

Loralei nodded.  "I can relate."

Angie declined the offer to go back downstairs with the other women.  When Kara and Loralei entered the kitchen, they beheld quite an amusing scene.  The brothers were busily getting dinner ready to be served.  It was weird watching them move around each other.  It was hard to tell where one man began and the other ended.  Eerily, at almost the same exact moment, they stopped and focused their eyes on their wives.

"I need to get a picture of this," Loralei said.  "Cute aprons!"

Donovan lifted his infernal eyebrow.  "I will not allow you to blackmail me.  The two of you should go out and sit down.  I think my brother and I can handle this."

Kara grinned and winked at Farron before making her exit from the kitchen.

Loralei glared at him.  Was she serious?  Messing around?  Goddamn he hated it when they fought.  "Yes, my Lord," she said sarcastically.   

Once the women were in the other room, Donovan turned to his twin.  "I told you the coast was clear and it is.  Just keep your eyes and ears open.  I'll keep track of the heavies for a few more weeks just to be ultra-cautious.  After that, I'll drop it and attribute my fears to panicky paranoia."

Farron nodded.  "I understand and I thank you for wanting to help like this.  Again, I think it is a waste of your time, but if anything ever happened to either my wife or children, I don't know what I would do.  Right now, my family…my _whole_ family…is the only thing that matters to me.  I won't ever lose sight of that again."

"I know you won't, because you finally understand how it feels to love someone else more than yourself.  I've had my own times of arrogance and self-centeredness, but the instant I laid eyes on Rachel and Tristan, _they_ and Loralei became my sole focus in life."

Farron smiled just the slightest.  "I see it that way now, in both of us.  However, my dear brother, your arrogance has never left you."

"In the popular vernacular of my wife…bite me," Donovan said.

The four of them shared a nice dinner that was interrupted occasionally by the squall of a child.  Despite Angie's presence, both sets of parents took turns soothing an angry, hungry, poopy, or wet child.  After Kara and Farron left, Donovan holed himself up in the kitchen to clean up the mess.  Actually, he was hiding from his wife.  He didn't want to argue with her for the rest of the night.  Her gaiety was forced at dinner and it hurt to see her like that.  He looked up when he saw the kitchen door opening.  She was carrying in a bowl that he had left on the table.  Perhaps he had done so on purpose simply to get her in the same room with him.  She left the bowl on the counter and intended to turn away and walk out.  However, before she could, he took hold of her hand and drew her back around.  Her body language radiated a clear message:  back the fuck off.  He wouldn't, because he loved her, and he wanted to end the coldness.

"You know I'm not going to let this go until we settle this," he told her.

She sighed.  "Frank, there's nothing to settle.  What's done is done.  Kara didn't ask any questions, so I didn't have to tell her any lies.  As usual, you got your way."

"Damn it, Loralei.  You're a mother.  I would think that if the situations were reversed, you wouldn't want to be upset because of something that _could _have happened.  If you have a better way to handle this, I'd like to hear it."

She pulled her hand out of his.  "Ouch.  You really _are_ a bastard sometimes, Frank."  She leaned up against the counter and kept her eyes on his face.  "You had her best interests in mind and I can't argue with that.  Because I _am _a mother, I know what I'd feel like if this information was withheld from me."  The hand she had dropped came out again, and this time, she took it willingly into hers.  "I'm sorry for being such a bitch about this, but the other night, I saw you with Tristan," she admitted.  "It seemed as if you were crying.  If you were thinking about how you would feel if something happened to Tristan or Rachel, I would think you would want to say more than nothing."

"I worry," he told her.  "I do so because I was almost permanently separated from all of you.  I'm doing this so Farron won't have to feel that.  I'm excluding Kara because I don't want her to hurt.  It's complex and confusing, but that's my motivation."

"It's okay," she said.  "I understand."

He pulled her up against him.  "Do you," he asked.  "Or are you telling me what you think I want to hear?"

"I do," she said.  "You're still a bastard, but I love you."

He smiled.  "Me too."

"You're calling me a bastard," she asked comically.

"No," he said before he began nuzzling her throat.  "I have my doubts sometimes, though," he whispered against her flesh.

Uh.  _Loralei, you are so easy!  _His hand released hers and slid up her side, under her arm, and over to her breast.  The nipple hardened instantly and his thumb expertly stroked it until she thought she would go mad.  What made it worse was that he didn't touch the other nipple.  God, he was evil.  His lips met hers hungrily and his wicked hand moved away to unbutton her blouse.  He did nothing more than run the back of a finger between her breasts, and she completely caved in to him.  She wanted him and wanted him _now_.  Oh, but he wasn't finished playing.  His hand moved downward and a moment later, her jeans were opened.  He broke the kiss and attacked the side of her neck again as he worked her out of her blouse.  His delicate touch moved to her lower abdomen, his finger slipping inside her panties every now and again.  

"Stop doing this to me," she moaned.

He drew away just the slightest, but his touch didn't let up.  "Doing what," he asked innocently.  "Please stop interrupting me so I can get you out of these damn clothes."

"I can help you," she suggested.

"Nope.  Tonight, it's my show."

Without waiting for her to speak, he kissed her again and continued his delicate caress.  She dug her hands into his ass and crushed his body against hers.  It interrupted his stroking fingers, but for a moment, he didn't mind.  He drew away again and kept his eyes focused on hers as his hand slid down to her lower abdomen.  Instead of going inside this time, he began a maddening caress outside her jeans.  Oh good Lord, he couldn't do this to her.  She took hold of his wrist, stopping him.  He smiled at her and began pulling her denims down.  By that time, he didn't argue much when she started helping him get out of his clothes.  Within moments, they had a nice pile between them.  They'd never made love in the kitchen before, and it was freaking her out a little.  Up against the sink, he kissed her again, and she used the leverage it offered to help her wrap her legs around him.  He backed up with her and she vaguely wondered where he was taking her.  She received her answer when her ass hit the cold fiberglass surface of the island counter.  

"Let go," he said when he released her lips.

Her legs were wrapped around him tightly.  "Let go?  Frank?  Are you crazy?"

"Let go," he said again.

She did and watched as he stepped back.  "Slide up a bit."

"Baby, I'm all for experimentation, but this feels…strange.  What if we fall?"

"We won't," he said with a smile.  "Slide up."

She did as he instructed and she watched as he lifted his body onto the other end.  Coming up on his knees before her, he reached out and drew her to him.  He kissed her again, his hand tangling into her hair.  Against her, he was so very hard, only a tiny, tiny breath away.  Yet, he held back.  Supporting her, he lowered her down, his hips sliding neatly between her thighs.  They had been together so long, it seemed as if their bodies immediately knew what part went where when they made love.  Not holding back this time, he slid into her deeply.  He moved within her slowly, one hand planted firmly in the small of her back, supporting her, controlling her movements.  She had ways of sending him over before he was ready.  Her fingers dug into his buttocks again and he could hear her pleas, telling him to go go go.  _Not tonight, baby_.  Yet, he wouldn't be able to keep it at this pace for long.  As the sweat began popping out of his pores, he realized that they ran the risk of sliding off and breaking their necks.  He moved suddenly, startling her, and came up on his knees again, their bodies never losing their connection.  He dug his fingers into her hips, finally allowing her to do her thing.  She moved against him, meeting his thrusts.  The fan of her hair slapped up against the side of his face as she whipped forward and leaned back.  She cried out, biting her lip, and muttered an incoherent curse.  She wrapped her arms around him, holding onto him as much as the sweat would allow.  She moved harder and faster against him, and her movements were met with a low groan.  It wouldn't be long now.  She moved to get to her lips on his and he kissed her hard, almost brutally, while maintaining the lunatic thrusts.  He tried to pull away, because he knew what her next move would be, but she wouldn't let him.  She continued to kiss him, drawing his bottom lip between hers over and over again as if she were trying to devour it.  He groaned again, this time louder, and said something that may have been 'let go.'  She understood, but she wouldn't let go.  Her body made one last hard upward thrust against him, and he held her in place as his release ripped through him.  It wasn't often that he vocalized when he came, but tonight, he couldn't help it.  He didn't lower her body until the euphoria died down.  As soon as he did, he kissed her passionately, once again thrusting his hands into her hair.  When he broke the kiss a moment later, their entangled bodies slipped just the tiniest bit.

Donovan barely managed to steady them.  "Oh shit, that was close," he said, deadpanning.

"Uh, maybe we need to go to bed before it happens again?"

"I agree.  Oh, I also need to pay you back for biting me."

"Oh God, baby, I _love _how you pay me back."          

*  *  *

Farron and Kara entered the elevator on the first floor of their apartment building in relative silence.  It never ceased to amaze him how an activity as small as going to dinner at his brother's could completely wear him out.  The tension he felt between his brother and sister-in-law, as well as keeping such a large secret from Kara, had succeeded in developing into a horrendous pain in the neck – literally.  Of course, since the twins had come along, he had found himself tiring more easily at times.  All excess energy was spent on the children with little left for other activities; however, the added stress between Donovan and Loralei could be felt readily and he somehow felt responsible for it.   

He glanced up as the closing elevator doors opened suddenly as someone shoved their hand into the small space.  _Speaking of other activities, he thought as he watched two curvaceous brunettes step through the doors.   He immediately felt Kara's body stiffen next to him as she shifted Brittany slightly in her arms.  He moved closer to her in response, as if to shield her from the inevitable.  _

"Hello," the women greeted in unison.

Kara nodded and returned the greeting with politeness he knew she didn't feel.  He didn't think she had been living with him for three weeks before Trisha and Colleen let their presence be known.  The two women shared an apartment on the floor below theirs.  They had come knocking on their door late one evening, intent on inviting Farron down to their apartment for a little party they were having.  They had let it be known to Kara, through little innuendos, that he had shared his sexual favors with each of them a time or two.  Thankfully, being well aware of his checkered past, she had not let them get to her.  He wasn't stupid enough to think it didn't bother her, but it wasn't something she dwelled on.  Yet, each time she ran into them, she bristled with resentment.  

"Haven't seen you around much," Colleen commented, directing her statement toward Farron as she tossed her hair seductively.  She turned knowing eyes on her friend.  They had each had a turn or two with the luscious upstairs neighbor.  He had made it more than obvious it was nothing more than sex and they had been okay with that.  They had even had a little extra fun one night when they had a little _ménage a trois_ with him.  That had been an experience they would _never_ forget and even wanted to repeat.  Unfortunately, the little wifey had come along and spoiled all of that.

Farron shrugged uncaringly.  "We've been busy."

"So we see," Trisha acknowledged with a touch of sarcasm.  "And…we've heard."

Kara's brow furrowed into a frown of annoyance.  "Excuse me?"

"Oh, it's just that…well…this is a single's complex and the children have been… disruptive," she explained snobbishly.

An angry smile touched Farron's lips.  "As we informed the Tenant's Association, we shall be leaving by the end of the month."

"Oh, now, that _is_ a shame," Colleen purred, touching Farron's arm.  "We will miss you, Farron."

Kara rolled her eyes and mumbled something under her breath that Farron swore sounded like, "Get bent, bitch."  He did his best to hide his amusement and was never so thankful to feel the elevator stop and see the doors opening.  He breathed a sigh of relief when Trisha and Colleen exited, waving and insisting he stop by for a little farewell party before he left.

"Could they be more obvious," Kara asked, repulsed.  "Jesus, if the twins and I hadn't been with you, I'm sure they would have been all over you…not that they weren't attempting it.  I don't think I've ever felt so invisible before."

Farron cupped her chin within his large hand and turned her face up to his.  He placed a brief kiss on her soft lips and said, "I wouldn't have noticed, _querida._  You are all I see."  There had been a time in his life when all the signals Trisha and Colleen were sending him would have ended in a night of much enjoyed, but meaningless, sex.  Looking into Kara's beautiful blue eyes, he realized he had everything he needed right before him.  She satisfied every facet of his life.  Emotionally and physically, she surpassed every want and desire he had, and he loved her more with each passing day.

Kara smiled charmingly.  "And for that, Mr. Donovan, you shall be rewarded."

Farron raised a brow and grinned.  "Now, I do like the sound of that, Mrs. Donovan."

After entering their apartment, they headed straight for the nursery and began the happy chore of getting the twins settled in their crib for the evening.  Kara commented how glad she was that Angie had bathed them while they were at his brother's house because it was far too late to bother with it.  The twins were sleepy and ready for bed and that suited their parents just fine.  

As Kara busied herself with changing Brittany's diaper, Farron picked up the freshly changed Bryce and went to the rocker.  He leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes and began to rock his son to sleep.  Hearing a gentle humming, Kara turned to a sight that never failed to take her breath away.  Farron holding his son, lulling him to sleep with soothing tones.  Bryce was sleeping, one little thumb shoved snuggly into his mouth as he sucked on it furiously.  His other little fist was wrapped around a lock of Farron's hair.  It was odd how the twins would yank the hell out of her hair, but when it came to their father's, they just held it as though it were something precious.  

Normally Farron watched his children intently while he rocked them, never wanting to miss an expression on their little faces, but tonight he seemed a bit distracted and out of sorts.  She had noticed that at dinner, as well as the unusual current of animosity between Loralei and Frank.  She finished diapering a sleepy Brittany and kissed the top of her little head before gently laying her in the crib.  She went to the rocker and took Bryce's little fist in hers and began to untangle Farron's hair from his grip.

Farron opened his eyes and smiled.  "He's got a firm grasp, Mommy."  

"He sure does, Daddy," she replied with a laugh.  "There, you're loose," she said as she finally freed Farron's hair from Bryce's fist.  She lifted him from Farron's arms and took him to the crib, where he joined his sister.  "Sleep sweet, angels," she whispered, touching each of their cheeks before she moved away.

Farron stood slowly and stretched, groaning with each pull of his neck muscles.  "Shel, can you do me a favor and rub my neck?  It's really bothering me tonight."  

"Sure, baby," she responded easily as she waited for him while he stopped at the crib to say goodnight to the twins.  She chuckled softly as she followed him into the bedroom.    She watched him strip down, leaving a trail of clothing on the floor as he made his way to the bed.  Once there, completely naked, he flopped down on the bed and buried his face in his pillow.

Shaking her head, she shed her own clothing and pulled on a short negligee before joining him on the bed.  Reaching over to the nightstand, she retrieved a bottle of massage oil and poured a good amount onto the small of his back.  "Relax, baby," she urged, as she straddled his thighs, just below the curve of his buttocks.  

Farron released a contented sigh as he felt her delicate hands begin a firm massage from the small of his back in long strokes up to his shoulders.  She would pause at his shoulders and pay those muscles the extra attention they demanded in order to ease his discomfort.  As the pain in his neck subsided, a different pain altogether let itself be known; a delicious ache and one he was only too happy to deal with.

"Farron," Kara interrupted the silence with a soft whisper.  

"Um-hmm," he murmured.

"Is something wrong between Frank and Loralei?"

Farron's eyes opened in surprise.  The last thing he had expected at that moment was questions about his brother.  "Not that I'm aware," he replied elusively.

"Really?  Hmm…it just seemed as though there was a bit of tension there.  You know, like after an argument," she insisted as she continued working the oil into his muscles.  

Farron lifted his body slightly and rolled onto his back.  He steadied Kara, who had not been expecting his sudden moment and almost toppled off him.  "Honesty, Shel.  I don't know."  Inwardly he was fuming at himself.  It was just one little lie after another.  He was aware that Loralei knew Frank was doing a little investigating on his behalf.  He also knew that she was less than happy about the Donovan brothers keeping the information from Kara.  Frank had informed him of that while they had made dinner for their wives.  

Kara nodded as she settled easily over his hips.  She would just have to get nosy and ask Loralei.  In the meantime, she could easily detect the length of hardness that her womanhood had settled against.  _Can't let this go to waste_, she thought naughtily.  She felt Farron's hands move upward over her thighs and knew he was of the same frame of mind.

"Darling," she whispered sensually.

"_Querida_," he returned.

"Just exactly where do those two women live?"

Farron's eyes locked onto hers and read the wickedness in their depth.  "Their apartment is directly below ours, Shel."

She smiled mischievously.  "Good," she said as she leaned forward until her lips were a mere breath from his.  "I'm in the mood to make a _lot_ of noise, lover."

* * *

The next morning, Loralei entered the kitchen and noticed that Donovan was in the process of feeding both children.  Naturally, Rachel wanted what Tristan had and vice versa.  However, her husband used the tried and true method of settling the fight.  He presented Rachel with her favorite:  half a mashed banana.  She had long ago given up trying to shampoo with it and now tore into it for all it was worth.  Tristan hated bananas so he went back to his own food.

"You truly have your hands full this morning," she said.  When the kids noticed her, they demanded to be hugged and kissed, which she went to with gusto.  "And Tristan is dressed.  You _are_ a miracle worker."

"You were sleeping so deeply and I didn't want to wake you," he told her.  "I'm taking a sick day today.  Hope you don't mind having me underfoot."

She gazed at him lovingly.  "Don't mind at all.  I think it will be nice having you here all day."

Without thinking about it, he wiped away a dribble of juice from Tristan's chin.  "I could still quit and we can move.  I think Farron is okay now."

"Baby, you tried that once and couldn't do it.  I don't think you're ready to quit yet, if you'll _ever_ be ready and that's okay.  Whenever you're _truly_ ready, the kids and I will follow you to hell and back.  Farron was a secondary reason for your return.  You love it here and you love your job.  You don't like Shoemaker and I can't blame you.  Whenever you're ready, my love, we'll go wherever you go."

"I love you, LD.  I don't think I say that often enough."

"Nope, you don't," she said with a big smile on her face.  "I'm going to head for the shower.  _Somebody_ made me get all hot and sticky last night."

"Yeah, that's me," he called after her.

Later, they took the kids outside and spent the afternoon playing with them.  Tristan had invented his own game.  Smack into Mommy, giggle happily, and then smack into Daddy.  Repeat process a thousand times.  Rachel, on the other hand, was quieter.  She sat in the grass and examined rocks here and there.  _Bless her heart_, Loralei thought, _She's going to be a big nerd like her mommy._

--To be continued…


	4. Heartbreaking Loss

HEARTBREAKING LOSS

Two months passed, and the time slipped slowly past the two oblivious Donovan families.  Periodically, Donovan checked with every federal prison known to man, and was assured that neither Ortiz nor Huete was out of prison yet.  There were no reports of Colombian gangs mobilizing or trying to force their way into Chicago.  For the most part, nothing was going on and Donovan was greatly relieved.  He could give Farron the all clear and finally have a normal conversation with his wife without it turning into an argument.  What made him feel even better about the whole situation was the fact that his brother and sister in-law had moved back into the Everett home.  It was easier for him to keep an eye out for his brother that way.  _There you go again, Donovan, acting as if Farron is your kid brother or something.  _However, his concerns went further than that.  Children.  It all boiled down to children, and the way some people insisted on using them as targets to get back at their parents.  He hated it.  

After he was convinced that all was well, he left the nest and went out to the parking garage.  He climbed into his car and sat behind the wheel for a few minutes.  His hand was on his cell phone and he knew it was time to call his brother, but he couldn't do it, not right away.  Something simply didn't feel right.  _You're a paranoid ass_.  He hit a key, and a moment later, he heard a phone ringing somewhere out in the 'burbs, where he longed to be with his family.  He nearly choked on his own tongue when Kara answered.  This was supposed to be Farron's work cell.  Almost immediately, he was tempted to hang up.  Of course, it wouldn't do any good, not with that wonderful invention known as Caller ID.

"Hi, Kara," Donovan said, masking his obvious surprise.  "I was looking for Farron."

"Oh, hi, Frank.  Your brother is in the shower.  Want him to call you back?"

"Sure," he said.  "Tell him to wait until I get home, though.  I should be there in an hour."

Before Kara could respond, he hit the 'end' key and sat staring down at the phone for what seemed like an hour.  What was there to feel guilty about?  There was nothing going on, it was the simple truth.  Sighing heavily, he dug out his keys, stuck one into the ignition, and the car came to life with a roar.  He was edgy and nervous.  Those were two emotions he didn't like at all.  When he made the turn into the driveway at home, he noticed that Loralei had both kids out in the yard.  She was leading them toward the back, away from the driveway.  When they noticed his car, the three of them stood back.  Rachel was waving crazily while Loralei prodded Tristan to wave.  Ah.  It was just Daddy.  He saw him every day.  It wasn't, however, every day that he could play in the backyard and eat a bug or two.  Donovan smiled a little, again wondering what he would do without them.  Patiently, his little family waited for him to exit his vehicle.  The moment he got out of the car, his two little ones flanked him.  He crouched down and allowed both of them to climb up into his arms, Rachel shinning up him as if he were a tree.  He gave each a noisy kiss on the cheek.  Their happiness at Daddy's arrival was short-lived.  They were ready to go about their lives, as they often did, as soon as his 'newness' wore off.  He followed them and Loralei into the backyard where predictably, Tristan began to pick around in the grass.  

Donovan and Loralei grabbed deck chairs and set them near the babies.  With both of them keeping watch over their children, Loralei glanced at her husband curiously.  "Are you okay?" 

"Sure, babe, I'm fine," he said.  "Farron will be calling here soon."  He glanced at his wristwatch for good measure.  He still had a few minutes.  "I'm giving him the all clear.  There has been no activity in two months."

"The security alert has gone from orange to green," she asked, smiling faintly.

He looked up at her a trifle sadly.  They had had more arguments over the past two months than they ever had during their entire relationship.  "Indeed."

She vacated her chair and planted her body firmly onto his lap.  "Let's not go through this again, okay?"

His hand came out to grasp hers.  "We won't."  He kissed her tenderly, aching for it to be so much more.  But now was not the time.  From inside, they could hear the phone.  "That'll be Farron." 

Loralei moved so Donovan could sprint off inside.  _Please let this be it.  _She didn't like fighting with her husband, even when they made up it still hurt.

*  *  *

Frank Donovan had covered his bases well.  However, even a sharp man such as he could miss a detail now and again.  For one thing, Donovan didn't know that Raphael Ortiz existed.  Mateo had only mentioned Ortiz's daughters, but none of them were as vicious as their father.  Apparently, Farron either didn't know about him or had forgotten he existed.  Whatever the case, Raphael was alive, well, and free.  He visited his father every chance he got, and at every meeting, he would tell Jesus what was going on with Mateo's life.  There was much to destroy.  Kara Donovan didn't interest Raphael.  Neither Brittany nor Bryce Donovan interested him.  The only Donovan he wanted was Mateo.  The yellow ass bastard wouldn't come out of the shadows unless something of his was either hurt or taken away.  Raphael was young, but he had his father's pull.  There were several people willing to do anything they could to help him out.  He had money, drugs, and guns, three things that would never go out of style.  For two months, he had been watching Mateo, learning his moves, his daily activities.  No one was as surprised as he when he discovered that Mateo was working with the police.  The police.  Amazing.  Raphael often wondered if they knew about his former life, the drugs, the women, and the betrayal.

Raphael had learned from an inside source that Mateo's brother had been sniffing around for the last two months, poking about in business he best leave alone.  However, it finally stopped and he had free reign to do what he wanted, completely undetected.  Almost everything was prepared and set up.  There were still a few details to work out, but it was nothing more than a few technical things.  All that was left to do now was simply wait for the countdown.  Wait for the perfect time to strike.  It was a bold thought, but one so very attractive.  Why, they would strike in broad daylight.  If that wouldn't be enough of a slap in the face for Mateo, nothing would.

*  *  *

"Lisa," Kara called from the foyer.

"Yes, Mrs. Donovan," Lisa answered as she poked her head through the kitchen door.

Kara smiled at the timid housekeeper.  Lisa Mendenhall, a twenty-one year old student at the University of Chicago, had come highly recommended by the placement agency.  Of course, Farron had used his connections at the CPD to have her background checked.  Lisa was just as she had stated; she was from upstate New York and was attending college in Chicago on a scholarship. 

Kara wondered absently, as the tall, slender woman drew nearer, if her blue-black hair was natural since it was in such contrast with her startling emerald green eyes.  She shrugged inwardly as she applied a coating of sunscreen to the twins' exposed skin.  "We're off for our walk, Lisa."

"Yes, ma'am," Lisa responded politely.

Kara grimaced good-naturedly.  "I wish you wouldn't call me ma'am.  Makes me feel so old."  With the twins tucked comfortably into their double stroller, Kara straightened up to face Lisa.  "We'll be gone about an hour, maybe a little longer."

Lisa nodded.  "Yes, ma'...Mrs. Donovan."  She grinned impishly.  "Sorry."

"It's okay," Kara assured her, laughing.  "I'll see you tomorrow then?"  
  


"Bright and early.  I'll be finished with the kitchen in a few minutes and then I have to head off for class."

"Have a good day, Lisa," Kara said, opening the door.  As she pushed the stroller over the threshold, she called over her shoulder, "Please lock up when you leave."  Kara physically grimaced again when she heard the familiar "Yes, ma'am," called out.  

She walked leisurely down the driveway, talking to the children here and there as if they understood every word she said.  Taking the normal left turn at the end of the driveway, they soon passed by Donovan and Loralei's house.  She took the time to explain to the twins that their aunt and cousins would not be joining them on their walk today.  Aunt Loralei had errands to run that would eat up her entire day.  

If Kara Michelle Donovan had just one little inkling of the direction her life was about to take, she would have gladly acquiesced to Antonia's plea for her to come into the gallery that day.  Yes, she would have packed the diaper bag and put up with the gallery patrons' irritated glares when the twins would make the slightest noise.  But as it stood, Kara had no idea of the darkness that would soon befall her and Farron's lives.  She would sink into that pit of blackness and there would be no help for her.

*  *  *

"Time to head back," Kara announced.  

They had walked for nearly forty-five minutes and the twins had become quiet the last little bit of their journey.  She peeked around to see that they were sound asleep.  She smiled serenely as she locked the stroller's brake and kneeled before them.  Bryce's little fists worked diligently in time with his pursing lips while he slept.  Meanwhile, Brittany lay quietly, clutching the tiny plushy doll she had grown so fond of sleeping with.

Kara straightened the soft baby blanket over their little bodies, completely unaware that she was being approached from behind.  When a shadow fell over her, she bolted to an upright position just in time to receive a violent blow to her left cheek.  She hit the ground hard.  Whimpering, she reached out helplessly for her children.  Her last image before all consciousness left her was the sight of her squalling babies being lifted from their stroller and the sound of a hate filled voice that spat harshly into her ear.  "_Considere este un desembolso inicial en su deuda de esposo, puta_."  [Consider this a down payment on your husband's debt, whore.]

*  *  *

"Jeremy, we're going to be late," Missy Taylor squawked at her husband.  "The Realtor won't wait on us forever.  You know several other people are looking at that house and if we miss that opportunity..."

Like so many other times in their endless marriage, Jeremy found himself driving out his wife's nonsensical ramblings with other thoughts.  His greatest thought at the moment was to stop the car and kick her irritating ass out onto the roadside.  Then he would be free to drive on to nowhere and become nobody.  Sounded like a plan.

"_Jeremy!  Damn it, Jeremy, stop the car_," Missy screamed at the top of her lungs.  

Jeremy slammed his foot down on the pedal.  He glanced over as his wife lurched against the seat belt that kept her head from smashing into the windshield.  _Too damn bad she was wearing it._  "What the hell's wrong with you," he growled irritably.

Missy clutched a hand to her chest as she attempted to catch her breath.  "Jesus, Jeremy...look!"  She pointed wordlessly to the side of the road.  A woman's body lay prone next to a toppled stroller.  From that distance, there appeared to be no movement from the woman and the stroller was empty.  Missy felt physically ill.

"Call 911," he ordered, pulling the car over to the curb and jumping out.  

Missy nodded as she frantically dug through her purse.  As she waited for the line to connect, she left the car and joined her husband.  He was checking the woman for signs of life.  The area over her left cheekbone was bruised and bleeding, but Jeremy said he saw no other injuries.  She repeated the information as well as their location to the 911 operator.  As she listened to the voice on the other end tell them not to move the victim, she spied a tag on the diaper bag.  It contained two names only.  Bryce and Brittany.  She relayed that information to the operator as well.  Missy was then informed the police and Emergency Medical Technicians had been dispatched and would be there quickly.  

*  *  *

Farron stood at the Sergeant's desk talking with Stu after his latest lecture with the rookies.  Farron had been issued orders by his wife that morning to invite some of the guys over for dinner that weekend.  Starved for adult conversation, Kara had commented that she was beginning to think "ga ga goo goo" were real words.  He was about to ask Stu if he was free that Saturday when a call came over his personal radio.

_Possible infant kidnapping.  Woman found unconscious at the scene.  All units available respond to..._

Farron felt his world slip away as the location was given.  He felt Stu's supportive arm go around his shoulder and urge him down into a nearby chair.  Farron fought off the desire to collapse into it.  Instead, he steadied himself and took off at a dead run for the stationhouse exit.  He vaguely heard Stu call after him, insisting he was in no condition to drive.  Farron shrugged his words off as he slammed his body into the driver's seat of his SUV.  Condition be damned; he'd get to his wife if he had to fucking sprout wings and fly there.

As he tore through traffic, he could hear the wailing sirens of the cars that were responding.  When he pulled up alongside the nearest, he immediately knew the occupants of the vehicle were two of his closest friends, Officers Scott Deaton and Terry Creecy.  

"Donovan," Creecy shouted from the passenger's window as both vehicles drove hell bent to reach their destination.  

"I'm not backing off, Ter," Farron shouted back.

"Get in line, you stupid fuck," he yelled.  "We'll escort you there!"

Farron nodded gratefully.  He eased back on the gas enough to move in behind Deaton and Creecy.  As they weaved in and out of traffic, heading for the suburbs, his tortured thoughts turned to the dispatcher's voice.  _Woman unconscious.  Possible kidnapping._  His wife.  His babies.  He knew it instinctively.  Oh, dear God.  _Kara._  

He growled vocally with the horror of his thoughts.  Was Kara okay?  How badly was his Shel hurt?  And the babies?  He fought back the tears.  What the hell good would he be if he couldn't see to drive?  He had to get to her; get to his children.  It was the only thought he was able to process.  Any other was too terrifying to think about and he was not capable of digesting any of them.

As he neared the scene he saw what looked like dozens of police vehicles blocking the road in both directions.  How many people milled about behind the cordoned off section, he could not count.  He brought his vehicle to a screeching halt, barely throwing it into park before he tossed the door open and ran toward the scene.

Several officers noticed Farron as he barreled forward.  Knowing he could contaminate the crime scene, they bunched together, grabbing Farron as he neared, stopping him in his tracks.  Farron grunted with the impact and stretched his arms over the officers' shoulders.  He reached out to the one person he could focus on.  Kara sat on the curbside with her arms wrapped around her knees.  Her head was cradled on her knees and her long blonde hair hung loose as if it were a curtain hiding her misery from the world.  His heart shattered into a million pieces as he watched her body rock back and forth, wracked with her harsh sobs.  _My love, my love.  My sweet love, I'm here. You're not alone, _his heart cried out to her.  It killed him that she sat unaided; no one was taking care of his darling wife while the area was combed for evidence.  "Let me go," he growled ferociously.  "I must see..._KARA,_" he screamed in his desperation to get to her.

Kara's body stilled when she heard the tormented cry of her husband.  She so urgently needed to feel his arms around her, to comfort her and tell her everything was okay.  Yes, he could tell her this was all a horrid dream and that she would soon wake from.  She needed him and yet she couldn't force her body to move.  She couldn't look up.  She couldn't bear to see the look of disgust and disappointment in his beautiful eyes.  If this weren't a dream, if it were all too real, then how could he stand to look upon her?  She had allowed their babies to be stolen.  He would hate her forever for her weakness.  No, she just couldn't face him.

"Let him go," Stu's calm voice ordered.

"Sure, Sarge," they chorused.

As Farron felt their grip loosen, he broke away, tearing the yellow police tape in frustration as it blocked his progress.  Finally free of obstacles, he raced to Kara's side and collapsed to his knees, gathering her tenderly in his arms.  "_Querida_," he whispered softly.  He was confused at her lack of response as she remained balled up and closed off.  He smoothed her hair back over her shoulder and gently urged her to lift her head.  His eyes filled with tears as he caught sight of her cheek.  Attended by the EMT's, the gash in her cheek was cleaned and covered with three butterfly bandages.  Dried blood covered areas of her face and neck and a clump of her hair was caked together and stuck to her shirt.  

Kara's eyes locked onto his.  Shock, concern, love, and heartache were all that she found there.  No blame.  No blame.  Maybe he didn't realize yet what she had lost?  She fell into his arms; fresh tears scalded her eyes and poured over her cheeks as he held her.  "They're gone, Farron.  Our babies are _gone,_" she screamed hysterically.  

Farron felt weak and useless and less than a man.  All he could do was hold her and no amount of shame could erase his tears as he cried with her.  Their world had been stolen from them; how could he make it all right?  There was no way in the universe to heal the ache and empty void they both felt at the loss of their children.  _No, no_, he admonished himself.  He wouldn't give up this easily.  That wasn't his way any longer.  He would search for his babies until he released his last breath.  Whoever dared lay a hand on those precious jewels would pay.  They would pay; they would pay with their lives.

He dried his tears with the back of his hand and pulled away from Kara just a bit so that he could look at her.  "Baby, we'll find them.  Our _niños_ are safe and we'll get them back."

Kara nodded although the tears didn't relent.  She couldn't stop them any more than she could stop the ache that coursed through her entire being at the need to hold her children in her arms.  There were no words or actions that could assure her things were going to be okay.  Her world lay in a shattered mess that centered on an overturned and empty baby stroller.

*  *  *

Donovan and the rest of the team were at the nest.  This morning, Donovan was already irritated.  He had gotten a phone call from Shoemaker and spent more than thirty minutes arguing with the bastard over something.  Whatever it was [he had completely blocked it out of his mind] had given him one fuck of a headache.  The activity downstairs was another hindrance.  He was close to tromping down and screaming at the team until he felt better.  However, it wouldn't solve any of his issues with Shoemaker.  After all, it wasn't their fault he hated his boss.  There was, however, one thing he _could_ control, the noise level.  Quietly, he descended the stairs and glared at the police band radio Cody insisted on playing when he was bored.  He used to have one in his car, but he ripped it out one day after a particularly bad argument with his wife.  It only succeeded in splitting his head wide open.  Today was another of those days.  Donovan reached over to shut the thing off, but the moment his fingers made contact with the power button, the voice of a police officer announced something so shocking that it made him shake down to his shoes.  _Possible infant kidnapping.  Woman found unconscious at the scene.  All units available respond to..._

Everyone standing around Donovan heard the call.  They all knew that the area police were responding to was close to where both Donovan brothers and their families lived.  For a horrible moment, Donovan felt his heart stop beating.  Three names ran in rapid succession through his mind:  _Loralei.  Tristan.  Rachel.  _How many times did he hear those names in his head before he came back to earth?  Jesus.  No.  He wouldn't think it, not just yet, not until he touched reality.  Without half a thought, he ran toward the parking garage.  No sooner than he got settled behind the wheel did he flip open his phone and dial home.  It was a stupid move.  It was obvious that something had happened, but yet here he was, trying to act blasé.  Not his wife.  Not his children.  No fucking way.

After five rings, he nearly cried when Loralei's voice came on the line.  She sounded sleepy and irritated, but she was home.  _Thank God, thank God.  _"Jesus, baby, am I glad to hear your voice."

"What is it?  What's going on?"

"There was a broadcast on the police band about a possible kidnapping.  I thought it was you…and I…damn it, I was never so scared in my life," he said.

"Where are you, Frank?"

"On the road.  I'm coming home; I don't like the thought of something going on so close to you.  Sit tight and stay inside.  Baby, I love you." 

"Frank?  What if it's Kara and the twins?  They were going to take a walk and invited me to come along, but I…"

Donovan exhaled deeply.  "_Fuck_," he bit out.  "I'm going straight there.  Stay where you are, do you understand?  Don't leave the house."

*  *  *

Stu motioned to Creecy and Deaton.  They slowly approached the grieving couple.  Each of them felt an overwhelming sadness for the distraught parents.  Normally, the kidnapping of an infant would be an emotionally draining case to be involved with.  But this was no normal case, and the parents were no strangers.  

"Donovan," Stu said solemnly while placing a gentle hand to Farron's shoulder.

Farron lifted his head slowly, turning unseeing eyes on his friend.  He was lost and extremely out of his element.  He could do nothing but hold his wife and offer comfort to her; however, that didn't seem to be helping her.  He looked away from Stu back to Kara, only to see her expressionless face and the empty, dead look in her eyes.  

"Donovan, we need to ask Kara a few questions...I'm sorry," Stu insisted firmly, but kindly.  

Farron nodded.  "Of course," he answered without thinking. 

Stu hunched down to Kara's level to speak with her.  Taking a pad and pen from his pocket, he asked, "Kara...did you see who did this?"

Kara stared straight ahead unblinking.  Saw without seeing, heard without listening.  Anything that filtered through was lost in a myriad of garbled thoughts and tortured screams within her mind.  She could focus on nothing or no one, just the repeated image of her children being snatched from their stroller.

"Kara?"  Stu called to her but still received no answer.  Not even the faintest acknowledgement of his presence.

"_Querida,_" Farron whispered softly into her ear.  "Love, it's okay, baby.  We need your help.  We need to know if you saw who did this."

In the back of her mind Kara crawled into the comfort of her own little reality.  It was safe there; no one could hurt her family, all was well.  Not even the knowledge that her loving husband called to her would seep through the walls.  No.  If she let anyone in, she would feel a pain so horrible she would only wish for death.

"Kara...please, Shel," Farron begged, placing his palms to her cheeks.  "Please answer me."  

But she did not answer.  She would not answer.  And Farron cried silent tears for the loss of his beloved children and the seemingly catatonic state of his adored wife. 

Before Donovan stopped the car, he prayed that it wouldn't be his brother's children.  He didn't want it to be _anyone's _children.  When he exited the vehicle, he saw his twin with his wife.  The sight of them huddled as they were was thoroughly heartbreaking.  For a moment, he would set it aside.  He realized that today, he wasn't a brother.  Today, he was a pissed off federal agent.  Donovan's eyes weighed the scene like those of an investigator.  He took in the sight of the stroller, the people running about looking for bits and pieces of evidence, and the small group of police personnel that surrounded the only eye witness.  His heart lurched with remorse at the sight of his twin, pleading for Kara to look at him.  Donovan recognized the catatonia in his sister in-law immediately.  It was a place he was familiar with, a place he never wanted to visit again.  As he drew nearer, Farron noticed his presence and immediately stood, throwing his arms around Donovan in a severe hug.

--To be continued…


	5. Seeing the Light

SEEING THE LIGHT

After calling his team and sending them over to Farron's residence to oversee the local police checking for any clues regarding the kidnapping, Donovan followed the ambulance taking Kara to the hospital emergency room.  She was immediately admitted to the psychiatric ward of the hospital.  He waited alongside an impatient Farron for the doctor's permission to see her.  His heart went out to his brother, who was torn on where he should be at that moment.  

"What's happening with the twins," Farron whispered as Donovan sat down beside him.

"The team will keep me posted, brother.  They've gone to your house to see if there has been any contact from the kidnappers," he explained quietly.  

"I should be out looking for them, doing _something_…but I cannot leave Shel."  Distraught, he buried his face in his hands.

"Kara needs you, and there is nothing to do now but wait while the authorities scour the city," Donovan assured him, placing a caring hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Mr. Donovan."  Both Donovan and Farron looked up to see the doctor standing in the doorway.  "You may see Mrs. Donovan now; however, I must warn you that she is still unresponsive."

Farron nodded absently and wasted no time in entering Kara's room with Donovan.  He vaguely registered the fact that the doctor also followed them into the room and remained off to the side in order to observe Kara's behavior and reactions.  Farron went immediately to her and sat on the edge of the bed, taking her hand in his.  What little hope he had harbored was dashed quickly when he looked into her eyes.  She stared straight ahead with no sign of life in them.  

Donovan looked on in silence, watching the heart-wrenching scene before him.  He felt a wealth of sympathy for them, and yet, the investigator in him knew that Kara might have just enough information locked inside her mind that may be of some help in finding the twins.  If she couldn't be reached, the babies might never be found.  He paced the room slowly while Farron sat helplessly beside his wife, talking to her, trying to coax her from her self-imposed exile.

"Kara," Donovan said quietly, approaching the bed.  "Kara…it's time to come back."  He shook his head as he pulled up a chair next to the bed and leaned forward.  She was still unresponsive and he wasn't looking forward to being the one who broke through her barrier.  Harsh reality would be his tool in breaking through to her.  There were two possible outcomes to his approach; he would reach her or she would sink even farther into her world.  

"Frank…"

Donovan held up his hand, silencing his brother.  "Kara.  I know where you are and it's a much easier place to deal with than reality.  But the hard truth is that Brittany and Bryce were kidnapped and you may be the only one with any information."  He stared deeply into her eyes and waited a few moments, hoping to see some kind of reaction, but none came.  "Stay in that place, Kara, and it may mean that you never hold your children again."  He stood and moved to the window, staring through the glass as he mentally searched for a way to reach his sister in-law.  

"_Considere este…_" 

Donovan turned toward the sound of the tiny voice.  His eyes locked with Farron's for a brief moment before focusing on Kara.  She blinked slowly as she repeated the two Spanish words over and over.  

"Consider what, _querida_," Farron asked quietly.  When she again repeated the words, he turned his attention to his brother.  "Frank, Kara cannot speak Spanish.  An endearment here or there, but that is all."

Donovan nodded and moved closer to the bed.  "What else, Kara?  What else can you tell us?"  He watched as her eyes closed completely and her grip tightened slightly on her husband's hand.  She was coming around.

"_Considere este un desembolso inicial en su deuda de esposo, puta._"  

A tortured sound escaped Farron's throat as the words sunk into his brain.  _Down payment.  Husband's debt._  His children were taken as punishment for his past misdeeds.  His brother's intuition had been correct, after all.

"Farron?" 

Farron raised his eyes to meet his brother's.  "You were right, Frank.  You were right all along.  And now my children are gone."

"I'm so…so sorry," Kara whispered through newly formed tears.  She fell into Farron's embrace.  She had heard the words Farron had said to his brother, and, although they did not register at that moment, they would come back to haunt her.  

  
"It's not your fault, love.  Please, don't…" he began, stroking her hair comfortingly.  

"Kara," Donovan interrupted.  "Did you see who did this?"

She shook her head and pulled away from her husband to look at her brother in-law.  "No, they came up from behind.  I only remember that voice…"

* * *

Leaving his brother and sister in-law to themselves for a moment, Donovan stepped outside to check out his text and voice messages.  He noticed that all but one were from Loralei.  He wouldn't call her back, not here.  This would have to wait until after he got home.  _If I ever make it there tonight.  _The one _not_ from Loralei was familiar enough.  It was from the Central Office, probably Shoemaker's direct line.  Preparing for what he knew was a major battle, he set that number aside as well.  He had moved to go back into the hospital when his phone beeped as an incoming text message came in.  Expecting it to be Loralei again, he glanced down and saw that it was from Shoemaker.  _Get to my office as soon as you receive this message_.  Donovan was tempted to tell Shoemaker to fuck off.  His family needed him.  However, he knew what Shoemaker wanted to yell at him about, he might as well face the music and tell his boss to fuck off in person.  Losing his composure wasn't normally a part of his character, but he was damned tired of Shoemaker.  Pausing only a moment, he slipped back inside.

His brother still sat beside his wife, both of them looking lost and shocked.  Yet, it was more than just shock.  It was disbelief.  He didn't know how he would feel in the same situation, but he could easily feel his brother's pain radiating off him in waves.  "Farron?" Reluctantly, Farron turned his attention from his wife to his brother.  "I must go for a little while," he began.  "I'll see you both when you come home."  He saw the desperate look in their eyes, both wanting to hear that everything was going to be okay.  For once, he wished he could tell them that, but he didn't want to mislead them.  "We'll find them," Donovan said before leaving.

Donovan took a deep breath before he entered Shoemaker's office.  It was rare that he had to come here, but when he did, he gritted his teeth.  He knew that he would leave angry and with a pounding headache.  He wouldn't dare sit down until Shoemaker told him to, and with slight disinterest, Donovan focused his eyes on his boss.  The man never liked it when Donovan chose to stand before him.  Shoemaker was a good two or three inches shorter than Donovan, he was balding, and a bit on the pudgy side.  As of late, his eyes had gone to pot, and he had to wear a pair of round frame glasses.  Shoemaker had always held a little bit of jealousy and animosity toward Frank Donovan.  Not many people knew it, but Donovan had been offered the job when Shoemaker was hired.  He had turned it down flat.

"Sit down, Frank," Shoemaker said, his voice almost in a commanding mode.

Reluctantly, Donovan sat in the chair nearest him.  He stared at the other man blankly.  "Why did you call me down?  If you don't know, I'm needed elsewhere."

"I heard, Frank," he said.  "You have used the team at least twice in your own personal endeavors.  The first two times involved your wife.  This one involves your brother.  It's too close to you Frank, and I don't want you to be involved at all.  Further, I am not giving you clearance to work on this.  If you put the team in, you will be reprimanded duly, as will the other members.  Am I making myself clear?"

Donovan bored his eyes into Shoemaker's face, wishing desperately that he could make him disappear.  "Then I suggest you start preparing the paperwork now."

"Donovan, what is this?  No one called your team in.  The FBI can handle this.  Your team cannot jump every time you have a personal problem at home.  If you want to get involved, take a leave of absence and do it on your own.  You're not a K & R man anymore."

He shook his head incredulously.  He had the greatest desire to launch himself at Shoemaker, but that would only create more problems than it would solve.  "This is a kidnapping, even _you_ can see this.  How many times have you sent orders down for us to work kidnappings?  I don't care if you'll give us clearance or not.  We're in it.  As I see it, you have three choices in this deal.  The first, of course, is to reprimand and suspend my team and I.  The second is to fire me right now.  Your third and final choice is to either assign us to work this case or I go over your head."

*  *  *

Kara was curled up on the sofa as she watched the bustle of activity around her.  She recognized Donovan's team, who seemed to be heading up the investigation.  The one named Cody brought her a cup of tea and fumbled with an attempt at conversation, but Kara was not up for company or conversation.  Unless they were coming to tell her that her children would soon be placed in her arms, she really had nothing to say to them.

She set the untouched cup of tea on the end table and surveyed the room.  Electronic equipment littered the living room and multitudes of people were tripping over themselves.  She listened intently, hearing the negative thoughts from one person or another.  As the time passed, they said, the less likely her children would be recovered.  

She glanced across the room to see her brother in-law talking to her husband and was unprepared for the slam of harsh emotions that assaulted her.  At that moment, she felt the greatest desire to rush across the room and beat the lives out of both of them.  _You were right, Frank.  You were right all along._  Her eyes narrowed as the Donovan brothers realized she was watching them and began to cross the expanse of the living room to join her.  She sat up in anticipation, not quite sure how she would react to them, but knowing she was feeling less than docile, even after the sedative the doctor had given her.

"_Querida,_" Farron began, sitting next to her.  "Perhaps you should…"

"Should what, Farron," Kara asked sharply.  "Go upstairs?  Why would I need to do that?  So you can continue to keep things from me?"

Donovan raised a brow at her obvious animosity.  It was the last thing he expected from her.  "Kara…"

Kara stood quickly to face him.  It was a mismatch and she had to look up at him to say her piece.  "And you…you're no better.  You both disgust me."  She pushed past Donovan and moved toward the doorway.  A very surprised duo followed her into the kitchen where there was more privacy.

"Kara, what is it," Farron demanded, holding his own temper.

"What is it," she asked incredulously.  "Did you think I was unable to process what you said back in the hospital?"  When she received nothing but blank stares from each of them, she shook her head.  "I admit, the drugs have slowed my thinking process, but you two are a pair.  How long have you been keeping this from me?  That Farron's past enemies were after our children?"

"I had no real proof, Kara.  Nor did I know anyone was after the children," Donovan explained.  "I was basically just checking things out to make sure all the players were where they belonged.  I was worried."

"Apparently," she spat.  "And why was I not told?  I would never have taken the twins out like that if I'd have known they were in danger!"

"God, love.  We had no idea.  Frank checked around while we were in Florida and nothing out of the ordinary turned up," Farron assured her as he moved closer, intent on taking her into his arms.

Kara's eyes widened at the resounding smack that she heard and realized only after she felt the sting in her palm that she had slapped Farron across the face.  "Florida?  This is why you insisted on that little holiday?  The lies started with Florida?"

Farron's hand went to his cheek reflexively.  He could feel the imprint of her palm developing on his face.  He had never seen her so angry in all the time they had been together.  "Shel…I never meant to keep anything from you.  It just seemed wrong to worry you unnecessarily," he explained weakly.

"Unnecessarily?  Does the abduction of our children qualify as _unnecessarily_," she screamed.  "I cannot believe the gall of the both of you!  I want you out…out of my sight…and out of this house!" 

"Kara, be reasonable," Donovan interjected calmly.

"Sorry, dear brother in-law, but the time for reasonable was when I had a choice in the matter.  My babies are gone and in God knows whose hands and I don't think I have a reasonable bone in my body right now."  She backed up against the counter as Farron approached her.  She never thought she would see the day when she couldn't stand the sight of her husband, but that day had arrived.  He had kept things from her, things that might have prevented the loss of their children and he saw nothing wrong with what he had done.  Beyond that, there was the reason for the attack on their children.  Her eyes narrowed to thin slits as she glared at him.  "This is _your _fault, Farron Donovan.  _Your_ need to have money and the easy life; the lowlifes that _you_ associated yourself with, _your_ choices have led to this moment in our lives.  I won't ask you again.  I won't ask you at all.  Get out of my sight and take your damn brother with you!"

Shocked and more than destroyed, Farron wanted to continue trying to get through to Kara, but Donovan knew there was no use.  Repeating a litany of 'come on Farron, let's go, Farron,' Donovan dragged his brother along.  At first, Farron resisted, but then as soon as the words sank in, he realized that Kara was right.  His past _had _come back to haunt them, to hurt them.  Mutely, he followed his brother toward the exit.  Donovan stopped briefly to tell the team that he would return later, hopefully after Kara calmed down.  She meant nothing that she said, he knew, but she was allowing her grief to rule her.  The space between the two houses wasn't that far, but every now and then, Farron would stop and look back, turning as if he wanted to leave his brother behind and go to his wife.  When he saw this, Donovan simply clasped his hand on his brother's shoulder and pushed him forward.  Right now, it was best to leave Kara alone.

"Frank…I must…must go back," Farron uttered as soon as the two men set foot on his brother's property.  "I can't leave her like this."

"Give her some time, Farron.  She's grieving and nothing makes sense."

Farron shook his head.  There were tears prickling his eyes, threatening to flood out at any second.  "She's right, you know," he said cryptically.  "This is my fault.  I let my happiness blind me.  I…I thought I was immune, as immune as the courts said I was.  They want me to pay, Frank, and I swear to God that I'll die for my babies if that's what it takes."

"You won't have to do that."  Donovan tightened his grip on Farron's shoulder, trying to transmit as much reassurance as he could.  "Go inside.  Try to rest."

The two brothers entered the house and Donovan was hoping to steer Farron toward the stairs, but he veered off instead.  On automatic now, he went into the den and collapsed onto the couch.  It was the couch that converted to a hideaway bed.  It was the bed in which he made love to Kara the first time.  It might have seemed bizarre or dumb, but he felt close to her here.  It mattered very little that he had failed her and caused her this pain.  He meant every word he said.  He would lay down his life in an instant for Brittany and Bryce.  

Although he didn't think it was such a grand idea, Donovan left his brother alone.  He was sure Loralei would have a ton of questions for him.  It was at that moment he began to feel his own eating guilt.  As he expected, his wife was awaiting him upstairs.  The moment she laid eyes on him, she opened her mouth.  He held his hand up for the briefest of moments.  Before they talked, there was something he had to do.  Knowing it was going to scare the hell out of them, Donovan went to each of his children and hugged them against his chest until he thought he would go mad from his love for them.  The unexpected hugs wakened them, but it didn't take long to quiet them down again.  After he left each bedroom, he closed the doors behind him.  Loralei was waiting expectantly, anxiously.  

"There have been no names mentioned, but it's all over the news," Loralei said.

Donovan focused his eyes on his wife.  She was sitting in the middle of the bed with her legs crossed before her.  "It was likely someone from Farron's past who did this."

"How's Kara?  Farron?"

He caressed the nape of his neck and approached the bed.  He sat down with his back to her.  "Not good.  Kara demanded that Farron and I leave the house.  She…ah… heard us talking at the hospital and found out that I had been poking around."

Loralei sighed.  "I see."

He shook his head, but wouldn't turn to look at her.  "I never felt right about this.  I should have warned them to be more alert, more careful, but I didn't.  I've been in this business for years now and I knew better.  It's much better to be oblivious than deal with reality, you know."  His last comment was made through a bitter chuckle.  "If this weren't enough, Kara threw her husband out because of something I advised him to do months ago.  You tried to tell me, but I didn't listen."  He turned to look at her.  There were tears shining in his eyes.  "So, I suppose you're entitled to a bit of 'I told you so.'"

If his comment had been made two months ago, it would have pissed her right off, but not this time.  He wasn't being sarcastic or arrogant.  His words were riddled with guilt and grief.  He had put on a different hat now, the one he wore only in front of her.  She hesitated half a second before she went to him.  At first, she thought he might deny her, because he was definitely still in work mode somewhere deep inside, but he didn't.  He buried his face in the soft flesh of her throat.  He felt hot and fevered to the touch.  She assumed that he had been holding this inside since he heard of the kidnapping, always trying to maintain his icy exterior.  It was the only way he could cope sometimes.  

"Frank, I would never say that to you.  You did everything you could and you had your reasons as to why you wanted to hold back."

He drew away just the slightest to look into her eyes.  "I kept thinking all day long, 'thank God it isn't me.'  He's my brother, Loralei, and those babies are my niece and nephew.  How could I think something like that?  How could I be so selfish to…"

"No," she said, placing two fingers briefly to his lips.  "You're human.  It runs through everyone's minds.  You don't have to feel as if this is your fault.  It isn't even Farron's fault.  As far as Kara is concerned, people do weird things when they're grieving, and she has to lash out.  If she didn't, she would completely lose it.  I have to keep saying this to you, Frank, and I'm hoping that you'll eventually take it to heart.  You're not superhuman.  You can't do everything.  But I know you, my love, you _will _do everything in your power to bring those babies back."             

--To be continued…


	6. Ransom Note

RANSOM NOTE

"_¿Goddamn, Dawn, tu no puede hacer algo acerca de esos mocosos que chillan?_" [Goddamn, Dawn, can't you do something about those squalling brats?]

Raphael had an enormous headache that was only worsening as each hour passed.  Since they had had the babies, nothing satisfied them.  They cried almost constantly.  Between the two twins, they might have gotten two hours sleep.  Raphael had gotten less.  He had allowed Mateo and his _puta _[whore] to stew long enough.  It was time to set the game in motion.  He sat down at the expensive mahogany desk in his equally expensive hotel suite.  Should he be coy?  Should he toy with Mateo and the _federales_?  Why hide behind a mask?  He could easily tell Mateo who he was and what he wanted.  If Mateo were smart [and he was], he wouldn't allow his hotshot brother to interfere.  Of course, the _bastardo_ wouldn't truly know what Raphael wanted until the two men were face to face, and the way he was working it, it wouldn't be long now.  Besides, he couldn't stand much more of their squalling.  Smiling a little, he gazed down at the spiral bound notebook he had purchased the night before.  As if he were composing a school paper about World War II, he wrote and rewrote what he wanted to say.  He didn't want to give away his mission just yet.  He wanted Mateo to sweat a little first.  He stopped writing for a moment and looked up.  Finally, those whiny ass babies had settled down.  He knew it wouldn't be long before they were screaming again.  Jesus.  He hated babies.  The little bastards even looked like their father.  It was hard resisting the urge to harm them because of that very fact, but he didn't want to let go of the only leverage he had right now.  He had seen Mateo with his children at the airport, and it didn't take much to realize that he loved them very much.  Perhaps he should have had the woman taken as well?  However, this was better.  He needed captives that could not identify anyone.  All those bastards did was cry, eat, shit, and piss.  He went back to his notebook and began to scribble furiously once again.  He read over the note and smiled again.  Perfect.  He turned his head toward the adjoining room of his suite and bawled out for Dawn.  The moment he did this, the babies began to cry again.  Couldn't someone put a bottle or something in their mouths?

*  *  *

Throughout most of the night, Farron tossed and turned, occasionally reaching for the wife who was not there.  It was pitiful.  He awoke in the middle of the night, hoping that it was all a horrid dream, but it wasn't.  His babies were gone and his wife had kicked him out of their home.  She hated him now, but he understood.  From the moment of his birth, he was a screw up, and he had been so arrogant to assume he was above it all now.  He had a home, a family, and a respectable job.  He had been entirely consumed by a false sense of security.  _Who the hell do you think you are?  You're not Farron Donovan at all.  Farron ceased to exist the moment you allowed your brother to be gunned down before your eyes.  You are and always will be Mateo Luis.  You won't ever lose him.  _He buried his face in his hands and sobbed.  It was something he rarely did.  Like his brother, he had difficulty showing emotion, especially outside the presence of those he loved.  He had never felt so vulnerable in his life.  He was close, so very close to conducting his own search.  When his tears dried, he began to think about all the men he knew before.  His last gang was with Ortiz.  Was it someone from there?  No.  None of the other men could piss without guidance from Jesus, Pablo, or himself.  None of them were sophisticated enough.  Then he thought of Alca Huete.  Fermo Torcido was dead and Huete wasn't exactly good at the revenge game.  After all, the evidence was in the Ennui Principio disaster.  Last he heard, Ennui had gone back to Colombia, probably to snort cocaine and prostitute her body.  Her focus was his brother.  It had never been on him.  She would have gone after Rachel and Tristan.  After thinking so much that his head began to ache, he once again lay down.  He didn't think he would find sleep for the rest of the night, but he fell asleep before he knew it.

There was a persistent push at the back of Farron's head.  He thought he was dreaming again, but the more he ignored it, the more persistent it became.  Along with the pushing came a voice that chanted 'unka unka unka' in an unending litany.  Slowly, he opened his eyes, noticing that his face was buried deeply in the fabric of a couch.  He again felt the sinking sensation that he did earlier in the night.  It was all real.  None of it was a dream.  He shifted his position and turned over.  Rachel.  Except for the color of her eyes, and her age, she could have been his Brittany.  _Is there a future_?  She had been doing everything in her power to wake him up.  Successful in her endeavor for the day, Rachel didn't hesitate to crawl onto Farron's lap.  He hugged her to him gently as she began to babble excitedly.  He caressed her soft black hair and fought the tears away with everything he had in him.  In the middle of all her babbling, Rachel stopped, as if confused.  She focused her eyes on his face and looked at him a silent moment.

"Unka?  Bitt and Bice?"

He hugged her gently again and bit his lip.  She was asking him about Brittany and Bryce.  Usually when Uncle Farron came to visit, he brought Aunt Kara and the twins.  At first, he didn't think he could tell her anything without bursting into tears.  After an agonizing moment, he said, "They'll be over later.  Okay?"

"Okay," she said agreeably enough.  As she often did with her father, she moved a little so she could wrap her arms around Farron's neck.  He'd heard his brother calling this 'The Crush' many, many times.  She squeezed as tightly as her little arms would allow.  "Lub yew, Unka." 

Her thing now was telling everyone she loved them.  However today, it was difficult to hear and even more difficult to take.  Fighting his tears again, he swallowed hard, "I love you too, Rachel."  He did love his niece, but he wished a thousand times over that he were hugging his babies instead.

"I wondered where she had run off to," Loralei said as she entered the den.  

"She's okay," Farron said.

Loralei approached the couch and sat down.  Rachel released her iron grip on Farron's neck and focused her attention on her mother.  She immediately began bestowing 'The Crush' on Loralei.  "I'm about to ask a really stupid question, Farron, but are you all right?"

He looked up at her.  "As all right as I can be, I suppose."

"Maybe I can talk to Kara later," she said.  "Come on, little girl, let's go see how Daddy's doing."  Loralei stood with Rachel in her arms.

"Could you leave her," Farron asked.

She nodded, immediately understanding.  Rachel was the closest thing he had to Brittany and Bryce.  "Sure.  If she starts bugging you, I can come get her."

She sat Rachel down on the couch and she immediately went to her uncle with the 'The Crush' again.  Loralei left and tromped up the spiral staircase to check on her husband.  When she left the room, he was still in the shower.  She was worried about him.  He might have gotten thirty minutes of sleep last night, spending most of his time in bed tossing and turning.  When she entered the bedroom, he was buttoning his shirt.  She approached him from behind and ran her hand along his shoulder blade.  He stopped what he was doing for a moment and turned toward her, taking her into his embrace.  He kissed her softly and then drew away.  She placed her hand on his cheek.

"I love you," he told her.  "I love you more for surprising me.  You're unlike anyone I've ever known."  Before she could respond, his work cell began to ring.  He released her and went over to the dresser where he had left his phone.  Impatiently, he flipped it open.  "Donovan."  

Loralei watched her husband carefully.  He didn't say much of anything, but she was certain that something had gone down at Kara and Farron's.  She wanted to ask him what was going on, but she said nothing.  He would tell her eventually on his own.  She watched as he said a hasty 'thanks' before he hung up.  He didn't bother tucking in his shirt.  He stuffed his feet into his shoes.

"We've got a note," he said simply.  "I have to get Farron."  As he tromped downstairs, Loralei was right behind him.  Hearing the commotion, Farron came out of the den, still holding onto Rachel.  "Cody called.  Someone came by your house with a note," Donovan explained.  Without thinking, Donovan took hold of his daughter and gave her to Loralei.

Farron remembered little about the run over to his house.  Did his feet touch the ground at all?  The moment the two brothers entered the home they immediately noticed Alex and Jake interrogating the hell out of a very scared looking kid.  Farron looked all around for Kara, but didn't see her.  Without hesitating, he approached the small group of people.  "Where's the note," he demanded, "Give me the goddamned note."  Silently, Alex handed it to him.  Donovan approached his brother and read over his shoulder.  _Your children are quite lovely, Mateo, but they're spoiled.  They cry entirely too much.  You helped put my father in prison and I hate you for that.  What I'm after is far less than you think.  My father told me that you had millions of dollars holed away.  I want it, Mateo; I want every dime.  I'll be in touch.  _It was signed 'Raphael Ortiz.'  He made the connection immediately, but he wasn't thinking about that right now.  He threw the note to the floor and went after the messenger.  He grabbed the kid up by his collar and glared down at him.  "_What have you done with my children_," Farron roared.  "_Tell me or I'll snap your fucking neck_."  

Donovan took hold of his brother.  "Back off, Farron.  He brought the note.  He had nothing to do with this," he said calmly.  Slowly, Farron released the kid, but Donovan kept a strong hold on his brother.  "What does he say about the person who hired him," Donovan asked Alex.  Meanwhile, his brother continued to hiss and snarl.

"A woman named Dawn came in and asked for the messenger service.  The kid described her as having blonde hair and green eyes."

Donovan sighed.  This 'Dawn' fit the description of thousands of women, _millions _of them.  "Nothing specific?"  Alex shook her head.  He sighed angrily.  "Let the kid go when you're finished."

"Let him go," Farron snarled through gritted teeth.  "What do you mean let him go?  Frank, he knows where my babies are, he knows…"

"Nothing," Donovan said.  "He delivered the note.  Nothing else.  You can't attack this kid."

Defeated for the time being, his body slumped.  The only thing that drew his attention was the sight of his wife slowly creeping out of the kitchen.  

Kara had watched the scene with unfeeling eyes.  She had read the note the moment the young boy had entered the door; had even gone so far as to claw it out of the hands the agents who held it.  They had scolded her, explaining there could be fingerprint evidence.  When she read the note she had released a cold and brutal laugh.  The culprit was bold and wanted them to know who he was.  _Fingerprint evidence, my ass._

She studied her husband as his eyes settled on her, seeing her for the first time.  He looked haggard and grief-stricken; much as she did, she was sure.  There were many times during their separation that she had longed to call out to him, go to him, but she was still hurting too much from his betrayal.  It wasn't fair; the time she needed him the most, was the time she was forced to push him away.  

"Kara," Farron said, as he neared her and she stepped quietly back into the kitchen.  He knew the pain she was feeling; it mirrored his own.  If only she would let him hold her, they could be a comfort to each other.  He needed her love so badly; it was as though her love was the one thing that held him together.  Her love was the only thing that made him believe he was the man he had longed to be.  Without it, he was nothing.

She smiled wryly and shook her head.  "So, Mateo…what is it that you want more?  To hold onto that money, or hold your children?" 

He moved forward and grasped her upper arm.  He nearly screamed from the sound of her using his alias.  She had spat it with all the venom her beautiful soul possessed, and it harbored more of an impact than a hundred of the slaps she had delivered previously.  "How can you ask me that?!  Nothing matters more than Brittany and Bryce."

She looked down at his hand that gripped her roughly and then her gaze locked with his.  She fought the urge to wrap her arms around him and tell him everything would be okay as long as they loved each other, but her mind stopped the orders her heart was sending.  "Then tell me your plans, Mateo.  How will you bring our babies back?"

"Do not use that name," he ordered through clenched teeth.  "I am no longer that man," he insisted.

"No?"  Kara shrugged.  "Someone believes you are, and that someone has our children.  Get them back," she demanded and wrenched out of his grasp.  

Farron moved behind her when she turned her back on him.  It was a sight that sickened him; she was shutting him out and he needed so desperately for her to let him back in.  He placed gentle hands on her shoulders and pressed his cheek to hers.  "No matter what happens, you and the twins are all that matters to me.  I will do whatever it takes to get them back."

"Just go.  You read the note.  Now, go."  Kara stood stiffly and felt his hands drop as he moved away from her.  Seconds later, she heard the door close quietly and knew instinctively that the Donovan brothers had left together.  She glanced down at the table and saw the small meal that Monica had prepared for her.  Picking up the plates, she opened the cabinet below the sink and threw the food in the trash, plates and all.

She made her way to the second floor by way of the back staircase.  She passed the master bedroom; she could not sleep there, she missed Farron's arms around her when she slept.  She moved on to the nursery.  It was so dark and empty.  She could smell the twins' wonderful baby smell all through the room.  It probably wasn't the best idea for her to hole herself up in their room, but she felt oddly comforted there.  She lifted the baby quilt from the rocker and curled up on the large window seat.  

The nursery faced Frank and Loralei's house.  Her hand pressed against the glass as she watched the two sullen figures cross the grounds between the two houses.  Her shattered heart broke further knowing she was the cause of much of Farron's pain.  She rested her forehead against the glass and wondered silently if they would ever be what they once were.

*  *  *

Donovan brought his brother back to his house that evening.  Kara had gotten upset enough to demand they leave again, and Farron had nowhere else to go.  It was difficult doing his job when his sister in-law wouldn't let him.  He couldn't blame her.  He had withheld just as much information as Farron did.  His brother was morose and quiet, still shaken from the ransom note and the bitter words exchanged between him and his wife.  He didn't have enough in him to tell the team what the note meant.  Sooner or later, his ability to think would come back.  However for now, it was buried within his grief.  Not only had he lost his babies, but it appeared as if he had lost his wife as well.  

Donovan left Farron on the couch in the den, but he didn't stay there long.  Once he noticed that his twin had gone upstairs, Farron went into the kitchen and reached up to one of the top cabinets.  If he knew his brother as well as he thought, he should find what he needed instantly.  Of course, he did.  He took the full bottle of bourbon and had begun reaching for a glass, but changed his mind.  _Fuck it.  _He took the bottle out to the back deck and opened it.  He didn't want to get shitfaced inside his brother's home, where his children could easily see him.  He drank deeply from the bottle without a thought.  He grimaced at its bitter taste.  It had been a while since he had drunk.  When Kara went cold turkey at her pregnancy, he did as well.  _Kara.  Dear sweet God, Kara.  _He turned the bottle up again.

Donovan came outside a bit later, looking for Farron.  At first, he had thought his twin had gone back home.  Instead, he found him sitting on the back deck drinking himself silly.  Half the bourbon was gone.  Considering the way he was drinking it, the other half would be gone in minutes.  "Farron, I really need you to be clear headed and sane right now.  You're no good to your wife and children like this."

He fixed his eyes on his twin coldly.  He took another drink for good measure.  "I'm no good to them now, Frank.  I was no good before.  Why should anything change?"  Farron's words were only slightly slurred.  

"You _have _changed, that's the thing.  Don't you see?"

Farron laugh was dark and ugly.  "How would you know what or who I am?  How do you understand?  Your children are safe and snuggled in their beds; your wife still loves you.  There never was a Farron, my brother.  There was and always will be Mateo.  It's who I am; it's who anyone will ever see.  When Bryce and Brittany are old enough to understand, they'll be ashamed of me."  He drank deeply from the bottle.  "_I'm _ashamed of me."

"Your self pity _must _stop, Farron.  It's the only vestige of your former self that still creeps in once in a while.  It's not helping your children.  It's not helping my team.  The note, Farron, tell me about the note."

"_Fuck the note_," he roared.  "It doesn't matter what it means, _I _know.  That's enough."  He took another drink and focused his increasingly foggy eyes on his left hand.  He gazed at the bright gold band encircling his finger.  Tonight, it seemed to burn him.  "I hated you today, Frank," he said softly.  "Your daughter came to me this morning and she has all the Donovan traits, she just doesn't have our eyes.  My Brittany will look like her some day, I'm sure.  I saw her this morning, heard the cries of your son tonight, and I hated you.  I hated you for having a family safe and sound while mine has been torn apart."

Donovan approached his brother and took the bottle of bourbon out of his hand.  He tossed it into a nearby garbage bin.  "So hate me, Farron, hate what I have.  If that will make you help me, do it.  We'll get your babies back, but you have to get off your ass, and stop thinking you can do this alone."

Farron tried to focus his eyes on Donovan's face, but it was getting harder and harder to do so.  He had half a mind to punch him out, but he had no energy.  "It's yet one more thing I hid from my wife, Frank.  Actually, it was one thing I had forgotten.  Before Ortiz was sent away, I had five million dollars in my possession from the last job I did.  I hid it in several different locations to keep the _federales _from finding it.  Ortiz's son apparently found out about the hidden money and will want me to tell him where it is.  He can have it, Frank, he can have all I have, including my life.  I just want my family back."

"You'll get them back," Donovan said.  "This isn't the time to pull away from me now."

"I can't seem to stop using you, Frank," Farron said, his voice lowering an octave.  "I thought I had that out of my system.  I guess not."

"No, you're doing nothing of the sort.  We're family, remember?  I owe you one anyway," he said.

Confused, Farron said, "What?  You owe _me_?"

Donovan nodded.  "Yeah.  I recall about a year ago when you kept me from leaving my wife and children.  Do you remember?  If I hadn't listened to you, I would have divorced Loralei and rotted away in bed.  I never returned the favor.  In a way, you gave my wife and children back to me, and I'll give yours back to you."  He took hold of Farron's arm.  "Come on.  You need to get some rest.  We'll work nonstop until your babies are back in your arms."  

Farron rose to his feet a bit unsteadily.  He allowed Donovan to guide him inside until he was embraced by the comfort the couch gave him.  Donovan left Farron and went upstairs.  After checking on the kids, he went into the bedroom, finding Loralei already in bed and knocked out.  The moment he sat down on his side of the bed, she awoke.  "Go back to sleep," he whispered.  "I didn't want to wake you."

She yawned behind her hand.  "No.  I fell asleep waiting for you.  I want to be there for Kara tomorrow.  Are you going to be okay with that?"

He nodded.  "I don't know how she'll react to you."  He gave up trying to undress and he stretched out on the bed.

Loralei reached out and took gentle hold of his shirt just below the collar.  She began rubbing the material between her fingers as if it were fine silk.  Almost child-like, she looked up into his eyes.  "Are you okay?  I've been truly worried."

"It's not me you should worry about," he said quietly.

She moved her hand and slid it into the slight opening he'd made after undoing a couple of buttons.  She placed her hand against the side of his neck.  "But I do.  I don't like how much you take into yourself.  All the guilt and pain."

He smiled a little.  "I don't know which of us worries more," he commented lightly.  His hand came up and he allowed his fingers to trip lightly over her arm.  "You're here and you keep me grounded and sane.  Go back to sleep, I'm going to be up for a while."

Donovan tried to pull away, but she took hold of his arm.  "No," she said.  "You didn't get any sleep last night and I think you should try."

"I don't think I can," he admitted.  "There's too much going on inside my head."

She pushed him down to the bed and leaned over him.  "It might only be a temporary fix," she told him, her lips a breath away from his.  "I can try to chase it out if you'll let me."

His hand came up to stroke her cheek and he was about to tell her he didn't think anything would help, including making love with her, but the words never made it to the surface.  As soon as her mouth covered his, he was willing to give it a shot.    

--To be continued…


	7. Reunions

REUNIONS

"Hey…can I get you anything?"

Kara looked up from her perch on the window seat to see Jake Shaw gazing down at her with a perplexed look on his face.  "No, I'm fine," she lied.  She knew his question had made him uncomfortable.  What could he get her?  Her children?  Take back all those hurtful things she had said to her husband?  No, there was nothing he could get her and he knew it as soon as the words had left his mouth. 

"Why don't you try to get some sleep," he suggested.  

Kara sighed heavily and nodded as she stood.  She had no intention of sleeping, but if she pretended, she could escape his presence.  She had nothing against him; she just didn't want to be around anyone.  She knew he would stay with her if she didn't leave the nursery.  Monica had probably spotted her in the babies' room and sent Jake to coax her into leaving.  It was as if they all believed that reminders of her children would make things worse, and that almost made her laugh.  Did they not realize that there were signs and memories of the twins in each and every room?  It wasn't something she could escape from; nor did she want to.

Where could she go?  Another deep sigh escaped her as she made her way to the master bedroom.  Without a word to Jake, she slipped inside and closed the door, clicking the lock into place.  She would not find peace within the walls of the room, but she knew no one would venture into her solitude.

Crawling onto the large bed, she curled up in its center and hugged a pillow to her chest.  Farron's pillow.  She closed her eyes as she drank in his scent.  The spicy, masculine smell gave her a sense of comfort and her thoughts drifted to happier times.  Frolicking at the beach, the gentle touch of his hand on her belly when she was swollen with his children, the tender way he would make love to her when her world was upside down.  A deep sob wrenched from her throat.  How could she have lashed out at him so easily?  She knew he loved their babies, she knew he loved her, and yet she had taken all her grief and terror and thrown it at him.  

She had no idea how long she lay in bed thinking of their life together when her thoughts were interrupted by the determined chirping of a cell phone.  Brushing the tears away, she sat up and half expected to see an annoying federal agent standing beside her bed with his phone held to his ear.  But the chirp continued and she realized it was coming from the cell phone Farron used for work.  

Thinking it was more than likely one of Farron's CPD buddies, she reached for the phone and pressed the send button.  "Hello?"

"Who is this?"

Kara frowned at the heavily accented male voice.  "Who is this," she returned.

"I would like to speak to Mateo Luis," the man demanded.

Kara felt as though her heart stopped.  She rose gingerly to her feet and walked slowly to the door.  "There is no one here by that name," she insisted firmly.  She made her way down the back stairwell.

"Of course, my mistake," the man chuckled haughtily.  "I believe he goes by Farron Donovan these days?  Yes?  Your husband, perhaps?"

Kara crept silently across the kitchen and made her way out the back door undetected.  She was on autopilot; she had to reach her husband.  "Yes, my husband.  You have my babies?"  

"Of course, I have those annoying creatures.  I do not know how you managed to trap Mateo; he cares nothing for entanglements," Raphael spat hatefully.  "He was always so careful with his _putas_."

Kara ignored his biting comments as she made her way across the lawn and through the path in the woods between the two estates.  "How are the twins?  Is someone taking care of them?"

"Please, I do not care about those sniveling, spoiled brats.  I wish to speak to Mateo.  You tell him…_you_ tell him…I shall call again.  If he is not there when I do call, I shall wrap those infants in a burlap bag, like the unwanted kittens they are, and toss them into the river myself!"

Kara stopped dead in her tracks as the line went dead.  "_NO_," she screamed, running for Donovan's house.  "_Faaarrrrrrron_," she called desperately, over and over, until she reached the house.  

Farron sat bolt upright at her first cry.  He was imagining things; it couldn't be her.  He shook his head and immediately regretted the action.  He had been so foolish to consume so much bourbon and now he was reaping its cruel reward.  His eyes rose slowly to the den's closed door when he again heard his name cried out.  "Oh, Shel," he groaned, stumbling from the bed.  Somehow, he managed to make it to the back door as she began pounding on it and calling out his name.  In the background, he could hear the wails of the suddenly awakened children and the hurried footsteps of their parents.  He pushed that aside and threw the door open, catching his wife in his arms when she fell forward.  

"Farron, oh Farron," she cried, hugging him tightly.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you, _querida_," he apologized, believing that was the reason she had come to him.  He sank his fingers into her soft hair as he cupped the back of her head and covered her face in delicate kisses.  He was never so happy to feel her in his arms.

Kara pulled away slightly, but only enough to see his face.  She never wanted to be apart from him again.  "That's not important now," she replied.  Before she could say another word, his lips covered hers and she melted against him, losing herself within his kiss.   

"Farron, Farron," she broke away, breathless.  When she brought a hand up to his chest, she realized she still clutched his phone firmly within her grasp.  From the corner of her eye, she saw Frank standing in the doorway with Loralei.  Just as Farron believed, they thought she was only there to reconcile with her husband.  And though she had every intention of doing that if he would have her back, it was not the reason she was there at all.  "He…he…" she stammered, pressing the phone into Farron's hand.

"Shel, what is it," he questioned, looking down at the cell phone and then back to her terrified face.

"The man…from the note…he called," she explained through the hitch in her throat.  

"What did he say," Donovan asked, as he reached for the phone and began dialing.  "Cody, check the incoming calls on Farron's cell and see where the last call came from."

"He said," she began and turned her focus back to her husband's face.  She pressed a gentle palm to the cheek she had smacked in anger hours before.  "He would call back, but he didn't say when.  If you don't take the call, he will see to it personally that our babies are thrown into the river and drowned."

Farron closed his eyes as he clutched his distraught wife to him.  He gently rested his chin atop her head and stroked her back tenderly.  "He will do no such thing, my love.  I will take the call and I will meet his demands."

"Farron, you don't know what you're saying," Donovan interrupted.  

Farron shook his head and handed his cell phone to his brother.  "I know exactly what I am saying.  When that phone rings, please, come get me," he said, nodding to the phone.  "I will be ready."

Without another word, Farron gathered Kara into his arms and led her back to the den.  He wasn't up to taking her back to their house.  Instead, he took her to the one place in his brother's house that made any sense to him.  He set her down gently on the uncomfortable mattress and knelt before her.  Burying his face against her breast, he wept.  He wept for the loss of his children and the return of his wife.  

Kara lovingly stroked his hair as she cried along with him.  They had yet to share their grief and they both needed that release.  "Can you ever forgive me," she whispered when her throat would finally allow her to form words.  She felt the softest of kisses pressed to the hollow of her throat just before he pulled away from her.

"There is nothing to forgive, Kara.  I love you," he assured her as he wiped her tears away.  He closed his eyes momentarily when she returned the gesture.  He caught her hands in his and pressed a kiss into each palm.  "There are not enough words to tell you how sorry I am that my past…"

Kara tenderly pressed a finger to his lips.  "I was so wrong to throw that in your face.  You've never done anything to deserve that treatment," she explained, cupping his face lovingly.  "You're a wonderful husband and father, my darling Farron.  No one or nothing can touch that; not even your past."  She kissed his lips softly.  "I lost sight of that for a moment."

A groan escaped him as he pulled her into his embrace.  "I don't deserve you, _querida,_" he insisted, burying his face in her hair.

"I won't listen to that, baby," she whispered.  "I love you.  The only thing missing from our lives is our children and…"

He pulled back and gazed intently into her eyes.  "Whatever it takes, _whatever_ it takes, I promise you that I will get our angels back."  He was not a fool and he knew his wife was not one either.  What he was telling her was that Raphael Ortiz was not a man who would simply accept payback; he wanted revenge for his father.  There would be no coming back from this.  It was something that Farron accepted without hesitation.  

Kara whimpered, pressing her forehead against his.  It was all she could manage to vocalize.  She didn't want to let her mind process what he was trying to tell her.  If she did that, then she would be accepting his absence in her life.  She wanted her family back, and that included him.  

His lips sought hers, conveying in his kiss all of his love and heartache.  When he felt her response, he stood and eased her up from the bed.  Slowly, without words, without the slightest of noises, he removed her clothing.  Inch by inch, he studied every line, every curve, as if burning her image into his memory to take with him, wherever he might go.  

When Farron reached for the buttons on his shirt, Kara covered his hand with hers as she shook her head.  It was her turn, and she treasured every moment as she discarded garment after garment, placing tender kisses over his exposed flesh.  Once her task was complete, she held her arms out to him, wrapping him in her embrace as they sank down onto the very bed where they had made love for the first time.  

Their eyes locked onto each other's as Farron propped himself up onto his elbows, positioning himself between her legs.  There was no need for words, no endearments, no promises exchanged.  What was between them was timeless – it was love.  A physical act that said more than words ever could.  As he buried himself deep inside her, she ran her hands along his forearms until her palms pressed against his and their fingers entwined.  As their bodies moved together as one, each kiss, each touch, was cherished as though it would be the last.  When release came, along with it came a flood of tears that neither could prevent.

* * *

After composing themselves enough to face the world, or their small part of it, Farron and Kara dressed and left the den, making their way to the living room.  Settling down on the loveseat, Farron pulled Kara close to him.  He knew it was strange, but he just could not let go of her.  From the way she snuggled up against him, he knew she felt the same way.

Farron's attention was drawn to the couch where Donovan sat with his wife and children.  Although he had been too preoccupied to notice when Kara first arrived at the house, Farron would venture to guess that his twin had been seeking the same solace with his wife that he had with Kara.  In their haste to get to the children and then downstairs to a distraught sister in-law, it appeared as though they both threw on whatever was handy.  Donovan wore a pair of ratty pajama bottoms and robe, while Loralei had managed only to slip into Donovan's shirt, which was buttoned crookedly.  It would seem that he had just one more thing in common with his brother.  He found just the slightest amount of comfort knowing that his brother, who was most likely riddled with his own guilt, felt the need to make the world disappear within the arms of his wife.

Kara's eyes followed Tristan as he made a path in the carpet with his favorite truck until he ran into his favorite speed bump – his sister, Rachel.  She stomped over to her mother, protesting her brother's actions.  Kara watched as Loralei comforted her daughter, wishing with all she had in her that it were her son and daughter that were safe at home.  In that instant, she hated Donovan and Loralei for having what was ripped away from her.  She also hated herself for feeling that way toward two of the best people she had ever known, but mostly, she hated herself for allowing her children to be abducted right before her eyes.

Her eyes locked with Loralei and sighed.  She had to have known that her husband had been checking into the whereabouts of Farron's former associates the entire time.  It cut deeply that they kept this information from her, so deeply she did not think the wound would ever heal.  Yet, she could not find the strength to be angry with her sister in-law.  Kara's mind drifted back to the night Farron and Donovan had cooked them dinner and recalled the unease she felt between Loralei and Donovan that night.  Was that the issue that had caused the friction?  Kara suspected it was and that Loralei had argued with Frank until she was blue in the face.  Kara sighed again, wishing futilely that they had thought enough of her to share their concerns.  Chances were, if they had, she would have been much more careful where the twins were concerned.  She offered Loralei a weak smile, hoping to convey that she understood that sometimes, no matter the objections, one just had to support her husband.

Happily oblivious to the tension in the room, Rachel wandered from her parents over to her uncle.  She tapped his leg to get his attention and waited impatiently for him to help her into his lap.  Not happy there, she immediately scooted over to her Aunt Kara and gazed questioningly between the two.  "Is laytah, Unka," she insisted, glancing around the room.

Farron stiffened, instantly aware of her demand.  It was later, and he had said Brittany and Bryce would be there.  He focused his eyes on Kara's grief-stricken face for a moment before answering.  "Not tonight, Rachel."  

"Bitt and Bice…laytah," she repeated, turning to Aunt Kara and throwing her little arms around her neck.  

"That's right, angel," Kara whispered, hugging her niece tightly.  "Later."  Her tear-filled eyes met Farron's and she struggled to keep from crying again.  She poured every ounce of longing for her children into Rachel's hug and pretended, for just a tiny moment, that she was hugging her babies.

Loralei stood, straightening out her husband's shirt as she did, and moved silently to where Tristan was playing with his truck.  When she picked him up, he let out a frustrated cry, but refused to release his beloved toy.  "Come on, kiddo, I think you should sleep for a few more hours."

Donovan made moves to stand.  "I'll help you put them down.  It might take a while."

Kara shook her head.  "No, Frank.  I already have Rachel.  I'll help.  Do you mind, Loralei?"

She shook her head.  "No, I don't mind at all."

Neither child was happy about having to go back to bed.  They refused kisses from their father and uncle.  Uh uh.  This wasn't fair and they were letting the world know it.  The two women took the children upstairs and went about the chore of getting them to bed.  As it turned out, Tristan was harder to coax to sleep than Rachel.  It was usually the other way around.  Loralei watched as Kara sat with Tristan in her lap, rocking him gently, quietly humming to him.  Watching her nearly broke Loralei's heart.  She couldn't fathom the idea of losing her children in such a way and had no idea how Kara was holding it together.  Loralei was certain that by now, she would have gone stark raving mad.  Eventually Tristan gave in to the grasp of sleep, but he wouldn't release his hold on his toy.  Kara carried the little one to his bed and laid him down.  Only when his back hit the mattress did the truck fall out of his tiny fist.  Kara took it and placed it gently on top of his toy box.  Any noise louder than that would set him off again.  The two women left Tristan's bedroom, and Kara had started back downstairs.  Before she could touch the first step, Loralei pulled her back.

"Come with me," Loralei said.

The two women entered Loralei and Donovan's bedroom.  Quietly, Loralei turned on the light and dug around for a robe.  In the rush of activity, she didn't realize that all she had on was her husband's discarded shirt.  Loralei slipped into the robe and turned to face her sister in-law.  "Kara, we haven't spoken since this…this happened.  I don't have words to express what I'm feeling inside right now.  I just know that if it were Tristan and Rachel, I wouldn't have lasted as long as you.  Another thing, I knew what Frank was doing.  He and I had our fights about it, but I ultimately…"

Kara shook her head, lifting her hand at the same time.  "No, Loralei.  Please.  I know what you're about to say, and it's all right.  I just…just don't have it in me to be angry anymore.  It was misguided and misdirected."

Loralei nodded.  "Okay.  I just want you to know that I'm here for you in whatever capacity I can serve.  You and Farron were a great help to me when Frank was…was in the hospital.  That's something I'll never forget."  The two women exchanged a brief hug.  Loralei pulled back first.  "There's something else I'd like to discuss with you.  When you go back home, I'd like to come along to be there for you and my brother in-law.  I'll have to bring the kids with me, of course, and I want to make sure that you're going to be okay with that."

"It's okay.  I'd love for you and the kids to be there."

Downstairs, Donovan noticed that his brother looked a little worse for wear.  He had his wife back, and that was something, but he still wasn't complete.  The son of Jesus Ortiz had kidnapped the twins, had made his initial demand, and all that was left was to await the phone call.  He wasn't sure that Ortiz would call back on Farron's work cell, but he refused to turn off the phone.  Donovan glanced at his brother again and saw that he had begun to stare straight ahead at an object only he could see.

"This isn't about five million dollars," Farron spoke suddenly, nearly making his brother jump.  He didn't think Donovan was so stupid to assume that it was about money, but he had to get this out in the open, because he knew what he had to do.  "Men like Ortiz can make five million dollars in half a day.  It's nothing to him.  Pennies.  He wants my hide, Frank.  He wants me to pay for his father and no amount of money in the world will do that.  I want to face him, Frank, face him and do whatever I can to see an end to this.  Look out for my babies, would you?  My life may be a horrendous thing for them to grow up with, but with your influence, they'll thrive."

"Farron, what the fuck are you talking about," he demanded.  "_You _will be here for your babies.  They will thrive within _your _arms.  You have the team and me.  I will not see them anywhere but in _your _arms.  Do you understand?  Whatever you're thinking, drive it out immediately.  I won't hear it.  I just got you back in my life and I don't want to lose you again.  Do you understand?"

"I understand," Farron said, nodding his agreement.  However, would he keep his promise?  He sincerely doubted it.

"You and Kara sleep over.  Keep the cell phone handy in case Ortiz calls back.  In a few hours, we'll go back to your house to await further instructions."

Farron nodded, but very few words actually got through to him.  He knew what he was going to do, regardless of what he told his brother.  It didn't matter.  He was going to do it his way or no way at all.  He looked up when he saw Loralei and Kara descending the stairs.  At the sight of his wife, Farron's heart swelled.  He still couldn't believe she was back in his arms.  For one more night, he would sleep with her against him.  He didn't know how many nights he had left.  Once Kara and Farron retired, Loralei joined her husband on the sofa.

"What do you think," Loralei asked.

Donovan kissed the side of her throat.  "I think if I don't keep my eye on Farron, he's going to do something stupid.  Later, after the sun rises, we're going back to their house to await Ortiz's call.  I'm not sure he would risk another cell call.  Surely by now, Cody has it traced.  Unless he's a blithering idiot, he'll call straight through to the main line, but I doubt he'll call back tonight.  He wants to torture them.  It's the Colombian way."

"God, Frank, I can't believe this is happening.  It doesn't seem real.  I wish I could do something for them.  Every time they see the children, their hearts break.  What if…"

Donovan placed his fingers over her lips.  "No, my love.  We're getting them back and that's that.  Go with Kara, she needs you.  Farron is a good support system for her, but he's going to be focused on revenge and his need to meet Ortiz face to face."

She placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.  "I love you, Frank."  She took his hand and stood him up.  "Come on, get a few hours sleep at least.  These next few days are going to be hell."

He willingly took her hand and followed her upstairs.  He couldn't help but think:  _Hell isn't the word, my love._   

--To be continued…


	8. Plea in the Light

PLEAS IN THE LIGHT

Donovan eyed the dark haired college student warily.  Although it wasn't odd for a person her age to suddenly become unreachable for a day or two, it pricked his suspicions in light of her employers' dire situation.  He had met Lisa once or twice while she was working for his brother and sister in-law and she always seemed like a nice enough person.  He had to wonder what was making her so nervous while he studied her unwaveringly.  Was it just being under his scrutiny, or was she hiding something? 

"Mr. Donovan," Lisa stammered, taking in the bustle of activity in the downstairs of her employer's home.  "Why was I taken from campus and brought here?  What's going on?"

He folded his arms over his chest.  He wasn't quite ready to answer any questions for her yet.  It was a tactic he used regularly.  Once she started talking, only then would he put her at ease by supplying her with the information she requested.  "Where have you been for the last twenty-four to forty-eight hours?"

"Excuse me?  I don't believe that is any of your business," Lisa insisted as she moved toward the door.

Donovan stepped in front of her, effectively blocking her route.  "It's my business now," he assured her coldly.  "This is not meant to be an invasion of your privacy.  Simply, the FBI has been trying to contact you and have had no success until today.  Your employer's children have been abducted and your disappearance looks a bit…unsavory."

Lisa's eyes widened with disbelief.  "The babies?  Oh my God!"  She turned and spotted Kara and Farron Donovan sitting together on the sofa, clinging to each other as if trying to keep a grip on their sanity. 

Donovan followed the young girl as she made her way through the crowded room to her employers' side.  Kneeling before the couple, she tentatively reached out and placed her hand over Kara's.  "Mr. and Mrs. Donovan…I'm so very sorry.  If there's anything I can do…"

"You can come with me and answer my questions," Donovan interjected sternly.

Kara looked up at her bother in-law.  He was in all-work mode now.  Wherever "Uncle Frank" had gone, he was buried deeply within the cold exterior of Agent Frank Donovan.  She nodded and squeezed Lisa's hand.  "Yes, Lisa.  Go with Frank…it's the only way to help us now," she answered pitifully.

Lisa stood when she felt the grip of Donovan's hand on her elbow.  "Of course, ma'am," she replied in a hushed whisper.

Farron pressed a soft kiss to Kara's temple before he straightened and followed Donovan to the kitchen.  He stood in the doorway and listened to the conversation.  Lisa sat with her back to him and had no idea of his presence.  Donovan made no indication he was aware of him, either.

"Now, tell me where you've been."

"Really, Mr. Donovan, I went to a Rave that lasted for like…twenty-four hours.  I couldn't have told you my name by the time I left.  I just remember waking up at my boyfriend's yesterday.  His name is…"

Lisa rattled off the information to Donovan and Farron's heart sank.  He had no idea why he held any hope that Lisa had information about the twins.  He assumed it was just his desperation; how would his sweet little housekeeper know anything about his twins' whereabouts?

Donovan turned to see Farron standing in the doorway.  He moved to him quickly, and closed the door without a word.  Nodding to Monica, he took Lisa by the arm and escorted her out the backdoor.  Monica followed closely.  

"Where are you taking me," Lisa demanded.

Donovan released her and shot her a cold look.  "I fail to believe that you have had your head buried in the sand during the time the twins have been missing.  It's been all over the news.  I intend to do a complete and thorough background check on you, including your finances.  It's safe to say that your friends will also be investigated."  

His icy stare never left her as she contemplated his threat.  He could see the panic enter her eyes, but there was something else that caught his attention.  In the bright sunlight, he could easily see the uneven tones in her hair color.  One tiny section was actually blonde.  

"What…what are you staring at," she stammered.

"Your hair," he answered simply.  "Odd shade.  Jet black…with splotches of blonde; temporary dye?"

"So…what if it is?"

Inside the house, Kara stood slowly as Farron opened the kitchen door after hearing the outside door open and close.  She moved to his side at the window.  Something was up; Farron had sensed it from his brother's actions and now Kara was getting the same waves from Farron.

They couldn't hear their voices, but Lisa was beginning to look panicky, and Monica had moved closer as if to keep the girl from bolting, although she had no where to go.  The yard was crawling with federal agents and police officers.

"So…nothing.  Just making an observation," Donovan stated blandly.  "Such as, the woman who hired the delivery company that brought the note…she was blonde.  Could easily cover up that blonde with temporary hair dye, couldn't she?"  
  
"I suppose," Lisa agreed.  

"She could easily be a college student who works for the parents of those abducted children."  When Lisa began to protest, he held up his hand to silence her.  "She could also have a connection with the man responsible for the kidnapping.  It's just a matter of time before I find out that connection," he assured her.

Unaware that the backdoor was now open or that Farron and Kara were observing them, Lisa began to break down.  "Look…I didn't know about the kidnapping, I swear!  He only asked…only asked about Mr. and Mrs. Donovan's schedules.  I swear!"

"Oh my God!" 

Monica, Donovan, and Lisa all turned in time to see Kara running down the steps followed by Farron.  There was no time to react before Kara launched herself onto the younger woman, knocking them both to the ground.  Kara's hands closed firmly around Lisa's throat and repeatedly banged the girl's head on the ground as she screamed, "Where are my babies!  Give me my babies!"

Lisa clutched at Kara's hands as they squeezed the life from her.  "I don't…know…" she stammered, praying someone would pull Kara from her before she choked to death.

Farron kneeled beside Kara and covered her hands with his, slowly peeling her fingers from the girl's throat.  "Let go, _querida_," he whispered.  _Let go, so that I might kill her._  

Kara slowly loosened her grip from Lisa's neck as her eyes locked onto hers.  "Tell us what you know.  Please, bring my babies back."  

Farron pulled his sobbing wife off Lisa and into his embrace.  "She'll talk…she'll talk," he repeated.

Lisa gazed into the eyes of Farron Donovan.  Icy black eyes stared back at her.  She had thought she had seen cold, unfeeling eyes in first Raphael Ortiz and then Frank Donovan, but the dead look in Farron Donovan's eyes put them all to shame.  She wasn't sure whom she was more afraid of at that moment—Raphael Ortiz, or the man now staring her down.

"I'll talk," Lisa croaked, rubbing her bruised throat.  "But what I can tell you won't help you."

"What do you mean," Donovan demanded, pulling her roughly to her feet.  

"Raphael took the twins, yes, but I don't know where they are.  I hired the delivery company at his orders, but I have no idea where he took Brittany and Bryce."

"Why…why did you do this!?"  Kara screamed as she lunged for Lisa again, but Farron tightened his grip on her, keeping her from inflicting bodily harm on the girl.

Lisa released a disheartened laugh.  "It's the oldest story in the book.  I love him."

Farron grunted in disgust.  "You mean nothing to him.  A toy.  A toy who helped take two innocents."

Lisa physically recoiled from him.  "He loves me."

"You are nothing," Farron repeated.  "And your actions only prove it."

By that time, Jake and Alex had joined them.  "Take her…find out everything she knows.  Keep her under guard.  If Ortiz discovers we know of their relationship, he may have her killed."

"He wouldn't," Lisa protested, struggling against Jake's hold on her.

  
"Let's go, let's go," he ordered, dragging her back to the front of the house to a waiting vehicle.

"Frank," Farron began, but stopped when Donovan waved a hand.

"We'll question her in length, brother.  But I believe her when she says she does not know.  Ortiz would not easily give up that information.  Lisa was a high risk to him; easily found out and easily made to talk.  He would know that in her."

"She has to know…"  Kara sobbed, burying her face against Farron's chest. 

"We'll find out what she knows, Kara," Donovan assured her.  "Farron, take your wife inside and calm her down."

Farron gave a slight nod and helped Kara back into the house.  He led her to the living room where Cody passed the time waiting for the next call on the floor with Rachel and Tristan.  Loralei watched from a distant vantage point.  She and Donovan exchanged a brief glance.  She had been more than tempted to demand what was going on but knew it wasn't her place.  Something about Lisa had set him off.  If she could get him alone for five minutes, she might have a chance to find out.  However, 'work mode' ruled him and would likely do so until this was over.  It didn't exactly take rocket science to figure out that the girl was somehow involved.  Suddenly, she felt the need to remove her children from this room.  She approached them and lifted Tristan into her arms.  He wasn't quite surefooted enough to tackle the staircase, but Rachel would do just fine.  Neither of them was happy about being taken away from the Cody Forrester Puppet Hour, but they went readily enough.  Perhaps intuition told them this wasn't the time to try Mommy's patience.  

It didn't take long to coax the little ones to sleep and by the time Rachel gave up her fight against it, she thought she heard a distinct sound:  the ringing of a telephone. When she heard the activity below, she was certain of it.  Loralei tore out of the bedroom and flew down the stairs.  In a horridly silent moment, Donovan was literally commanding his brother with his eyes to stay put for a few rings.  He nodded toward Cody who hit a button on his portable console to broadcast the call to the entire room.  The room filled with silence again as they waited.  

In the back of his mind, Farron heard his brother's words:  _You make the first move.  He wants to dominate you_.  Gritting his teeth and fighting to maintain a calm tone to his voice, Farron opened his mouth, his jaw cracking, the noise seemingly amplified ten times.  "Raphael," he bit out through clenched teeth.  In that moment, he made a decision.  He would only speak to the man in Spanish.  Kara didn't know Spanish and he could get to the heart of the issue without causing her more harm.  "_¿Dónde mis niños son tu bastardo_?"  [Where are my children you bastard?]

Ortiz laughed, filling the room with his poison.  "_Ah, Mateo es espalda el columpio repleto.  Sus mocosos son finos, tu amarillo pincha.  Quiero que su mujer entienda lo que digo, Mateo.  ¿Por qué no hablar inglés?_"  [Ah, Mateo is back full swing.  Your brats are fine, you yellow prick.  I want your woman to understand what I'm saying, Mateo.  Why not speak English?]

Farron seethed with anger.  He felt a snarl obscuring his face.  His wife's eyes were studying him curiously, growing large with shock.  "_Si tu menciona jamás a mi esposa otra vez, yo lo mataré.  ¿Entiende tu?  Diga mí lo que tu quiere.  Quiero mi hogar de espalda de niños._"  [If you ever mention my wife again, I will kill you.  Do you understand?  Tell me what you want.  I want my children back home.]  Another laugh issued forth from the tiny speaker.  Kara shivered.  This man was purely insane.  Farron had forgotten [and didn't give a fuck] that several people in this room could interpret the conversation.  There was only one person in the room he cared to protect right now.

"_Tu sabe lo que quiero, Mateo.  Quiero el dinero.  Su es decirme no soy bastante bueno.  Tu tendrá que tener la mano y el plomo mí allí._"  [You know what I want, Mateo.  I want the money.  Your telling me isn't good enough.  You will have to hold my hand and lead me there.]

"_Tu hijo de una ramera.  Nosotros ambos saben que esto no está acerca de dinero. La parada jugando los juegos, Raphael.  Denomine sus términos y yo los encontraré._"  [You son of a bitch.  We both know this isn't about money.  Stop playing games, Raphael.  Name your terms and I'll meet them.]

Suddenly, the room grew silent again.  No one moved or breathed.  It seemed as if everyone's eyes were glued to Farron.  He stood in the middle of the room clenching his fists tightly, grinding his teeth, likely cracking a few of them.  This fucker would die and he would be the one to take his life.

"_Tu es más listo que pensé, Mateo.  Quiero su cuero. Quiero que tu pague por poner mi padre en la prisión.  Su muerte será mi recompensa.  Tu viene sólo. Sé que usted se para con un espacio repleto de agentes federales, inclusive su hermano.  Yo lo llamaré en su teléfono de célula y diré tu donde encontraremos esta noche.  Haga cualquiera yerra y prometo tu que sus bebés cesarán de existir y sus muertes serán…que digo...menos que humano._"  [You're smarter than I thought, Mateo.  I want your hide.  I want you to pay for putting my father in prison.  Your death will be my reward.  You come alone.  I know you're standing with a room full of federal agents, including your hotshot brother.  I will call you on your cell phone and tell you where we'll meet tonight.  Make any mistakes and I promise you that your babies will cease to exist and their deaths will be...shall I say...less than humane.]

"_Encontraré sus demandas.  Daré tu lo que tu quiere.  Tu jodió con mi esposa, con los niños, y con la familia.  Una vez que tu tiene mi cuero, tu los sale sólo para siempre. ¿Entiende tu?_"  [I'll meet your demands.  I'll give you what you want.  You fucked with my wife, children, and family.  Once you have my hide, you leave them alone forever.  Do you understand?]

"_Su cuero arrepentido es todo quiero de tu, Mateo Luis.  Después que yo le doy la cabeza a mi padre, sus deudas se asientan.  Mantendremos en contacto._"  [Your sorry hide is all I want from you, Mateo Luis.  After I give your head to my father, your debts are settled.  We'll keep in touch.]

The line went completely dead and in the background, the activity had picked up again, but Farron didn't move one inch from his spot.  He didn't notice when Kara tentatively approached him from the side.  She didn't recognize him at that moment.  He was someone else.  He _was _Mateo Luis.  She was afraid to touch him, afraid that she would receive an electric shock.  She had only understood a word here and there, but nothing could tell her more truths than the look in her husband's eyes.  The moment he realized she was gazing at him, he came out of his trance and reached out for her.  Behind them, Donovan was staring at his brother, boring his eyes into the back of his head.  He had understood every word, knew exactly what his stubborn twin was going to do.  He wouldn't have it.  He watched as his twin took his wife to a more private location.

*  *  *

"What did you agree to, Farron," Kara whispered once they were alone in the den.  

Farron shook his head as he sat down on the small couch, bringing her with him.  He pulled her close and buried his face against her neck.  He could not bring himself to lie to her, but he was not willing to tell her what needed to be done.

Kara understood without his saying a word.  She wrapped her arms tightly about him and lovingly stroked his hair.  She had watched him transform from the man she knew and loved into a complete stranger before her eyes.  Although she knew her Farron Donovan had been a living, breathing, part of that scene, it was a colder, harder man that had spoken to the bastard who had taken their babies.  She didn't know the man he had changed into, wasn't sure she ever wanted to know him.  For some reason Farron felt it was necessary to bring him to the surface, and for that reason alone, she would accept him.  She said the only thing that made any sense to her at the moment.  "Every day I think I can't possibly love you more, and each day you prove me wrong."

"You are my life, Shel," he whispered against her neck.  "I love you…you and our beautiful twins.  Remember that…always."

"We'll never forget," she promised, resting her cheek against the top of his head.  She wasn't a fool; she knew he was trying to tell her without words that he would be leaving her soon.  She closed her eyes and prayed for strength.  It was all that was left for her now.

*  *  *

Donovan's eyes sought out his wife and he noticed that she was sitting on the bottom step of the staircase.  He needed a break.  If he didn't get some air, he would lose his mind.  He approached her and sat beside her.

"Farron is going to die, isn't he," Loralei asked quietly.

He shook his head.  "Not if I can help it.  I'm going to talk to him and get this crazy idea out of his head.  Did you pick up on any of it?"

She shrugged.  "A little here and there, Frank, but it…it was all over his face.  Kara _knew_.  He didn't have to speak a word of English, Frank.  She _knew_."

He took her hand and kissed it.  She was exhausted.  It was all over her.  "I suppose you wouldn't take the kids and go home?"

"No," she said.  "I'm not leaving.  She's going to need support."

Donovan smiled a little.  "I thought you would say that."  He stood and moved toward the direction Farron had taken his wife.  He found them sitting together with their arms wrapped around each other.  

Kara noticed him before Farron.  When he felt the slight shift of his wife's body, he turned and fixed his eyes on his twin.  They were about to have one of the biggest fights they'd had in nearly two years.  After whispering soft endearments to his wife, he stood to follow his brother out of the room.  The two men went into the kitchen and Donovan closed the door behind him.  He was tempted to stick a chair up to the door to keep stragglers out.  Like his twin, Donovan was certain they were about to have a knock down drag out fight.

"You know I'm not going to let you do this, don't you," Donovan began.

"I don't see how you can stop me," Farron said.  "You don't understand, Frank.  They're _not _your children.  Yours are upstairs asleep.  Mine are God knows where.  I have to get them back.  If it means dying for them, I'll do it.  I'd die for them twelve times over, Frank."

Donovan sighed.  "I _do _understand.  Don't you think I know how it feels to love your children enough to want to lay down your life for them?  They need you in their lives, Farron.  They need their father and they can't have that if you do this.  I'll know every move you make.  If I must, I'll cuff you down.  Don't think for one moment that I won't do it.  The team has ways to safely follow without detection.  We've done this a million times.  I'm not allowing your wife to become a widow.  I refuse to see Brittany and Bryce grow up without their father.  You said much the same thing to me once.  Remember?"

Channeling the yellow dog that was Mateo Luis, Farron allowed his face to go blank.  He had opened his mouth to spin an incredible lie, but he couldn't do it.  "You do what you must, Frank.  I shall do the same."

*  *  *

After her husband had left her, Loralei went back upstairs to check on Tristan and Rachel.  She thought she had heard a stray cry.  Since Brittany and Bryce had been snatched from their mothers' arms, she had grown ever so protective of her own babies.  As she expected, it was Tristan who had awakened first.  He was the easiest to coax to sleep, but the first one to wake up.  She knew they sensed that something was out of place.  They picked up on the slightest discord.  She thought back to the time when Donovan was in the hospital.  Kara and Farron had brought the kids more than once.  Tristan was still a tiny little baby and one of the crankiest infants she had ever been exposed to, but he hardly whimpered at the hospital.  Rachel, who without fail, would ask consistently for her father if he had been out of her sight longer than a few hours, didn't mention him.  The only time the two of them became animated was when she snuck them into his hospital room after he had had a long day of almost torturous physical therapy.  Now, Rachel had been asking about her cousins, but she noticed how her aunt and uncle reacted to her curious questions.  She wasn't an idiot.  She knew they were upset.  Sighing, Loralei took Tristan into her arms to lull him back to sleep.  It wasn't beyond him to tug on her hair, but today, he didn't even try.  He buried his little face in her neck.  She carried him over to a nearby chaise lounger and sat with him in her lap.  Before long, Rachel woke up, focusing her eyes on her mother and brother.  

"Momma?  Wachel want out wif yew an' Twissan."  

Loralei looked over at her daughter and noticed that her bright green eyes were set on her curiously.  By that time, Tristan had gone back to sleep.  She gently laid him down on the chaise and approached her daughter.  She took the little one in her arms and carried her back to the chaise.  After a few minor adjustments, both children were snuggled up against her.  Loralei had no idea that someone was watching her.

*  *  *

Only when Frank had been satisfied with his answers, was Farron able to leave his twin and go in search of his wife.  There was much he had to…no…there was much Mateo had to be ready to do when that phone call came, but it could not be done until he said goodbye to his Shel.  When he discovered she was no longer waiting for him in the den, he had searched the downstairs, but found no trace of her.  He climbed the stairs and saw her immediately.  Her back was to him as she looked into the guestroom.  It was the room Loralei normally put Rachel and Tristan down in when they were visiting and needed a nap.  He could hear his sister in-law's soft tones soothing her children and knew Kara was aching for their twins.  He started toward her just as she released a tortured sigh, headed down the hall, and slipped quietly into the twins' nursery. 

He took a brief moment to enter the guest room.  He smiled sadly down at Loralei as he touched each of the children's cheeks.  "I don't think I ever thanked you for allowing me to be in their lives."

"No thanks are needed, Farron.  Only one thing…_stay_ in their lives.  Trust your brother."

He nodded briefly and left her to go to his wife.  He found her standing before the infants' crib and he moved up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.  He rested his chin atop her head and sighed when she covered his hands with hers.  He honestly couldn't say how much time passed before a word was spoken.  He just wanted to hold her and forget about the rest of the world.  His only thoughts were for his wife and adored children.  

"Do you think they miss us," Kara asked, her eyes still fixed steadily on the empty crib. 

"Yes, _querida._  They are not wrapped in the comfort of your arms, or listening to the love in your voice.  They are as incomplete as we are."  He kissed her temple.  "Can you be strong, my own Shel?  Can you be all that they need you to be?"

A tear escaped Kara's eye and rolled undeterred down her cheek.  "I don't know if I can, Farron.  I think I can and then I'll catch myself watching Loralei with Rachel and Tristan…and I _hate_ her.  I find myself hating all that she has because my arms are empty and I don't know what future my family has."

"Shhh…what you feel is understandable.  Would you think less of me if I told you I had thrown the same words in my brother's face?"

She reached down and picked up Bryce's favorite teddy bear.  "Of course not.  I'm so empty inside, Farron.  I just don't feel…human," she admitted as she turned to face him.

He moved a hand from her hip to cup her chin and lift her face to his.  "You will have our twins back, this I promise you."

Kara's eyes closed as more tears reached her eyes.  She was sure Farron was unaware of the emphasis he had put on the word 'you' when he said,  "You will have our twins back."  It only further supported her fear that he was going to do something drastic.  She could not understand the conversation he had carried on with Ortiz, but she got the meaning easily enough from the pure unadulterated rage and hatred that she had seen on Farron's face.  "There's one other thing you must promise me."

"Anything," he whispered before kissing her closed eyelids.

Kara pulled back slightly and locked eyes with him.  "That our children will not be the only ones returning to my arms."

Farron groaned softly and looked away.  "I can't make that promise, _querida._"

Kara reached up and placed a hand to his cheek and gently turned his face back towards hers.  "You listen to me, Farron Donovan.  I will accept nothing less.  I love you, I need you, and I may be damned selfish, but I want you with me forever.  Do you understand?"

He understood and he loved her all the more for her intense devotion to him, but he could not make that promise to her.  It would be just one more lie to add to the pile he had created lately.  His answer to her was to crush his lips to hers and take them in the most demanding, passionate kiss they had ever shared.  He would take it to his grave, and she would have to live with it, without him, for the rest of her life.

--To be continued…


	9. Mateo Luis

MATEO LUIS

The day was long and Farron held onto his cell phone tightly as if afraid that it would sprout wings and fly away.  In his mind, he was making plans, working things out in his head.  He glanced down at his wife who had fallen into an exhausted sleep against him.  If he made the slightest move, she would wake up.  Everyone in the house who loved him knew what he was going to do and he didn't feel free to roam around the house.  His twin would be on him every step of the way.  Although steadfast and wily, his brother couldn't watch him at every minute.  There were a few things about this house that Donovan had never discovered.  It was exactly what would help him escape the watchful, stubborn eyes of the _federale_.  He shook his head just the slightest.  He was already trying to emerge, but that was okay, because in a few more hours, his former self would come raging out.  He passed his hand over Kara's soft hair, knowing that his touch might awaken her.  Perhaps that was what he wanted to do.  If she was awake, he couldn't slip out undetected.  However, he had made up his mind.  If Raphael Ortiz wanted his head on a stick, he would get it.  He hoped he could see Brittany and Bryce just once before his final sentence.  After all the years of skirting the authorities, getting breaks, and probation instead of prison, tonight he would face the proper punishment for a yellow dog:  death.  He loved his wife desperately, loved his children the same, but he cut such emotions off.  Mateo Luis had no wife or children.  If he kept telling himself that, he could get through this, get through it and do what he needed to do to bring Brittany and Bryce back to their mother's arms.  He closed his eyes for the briefest of moments and kept a hand in Kara's hair, stroking it gently.  _Soy Mateo Luis.  Tengo no esposa ni a niños. Pago una deuda con mi vida.  Es la manera Colombiana.  El Bretaña y Bryce Donovan son víctimas en el juego.  Yo los volveré a su madre._  [I am Mateo Luis.  I have no wife or children.  I am paying a debt with my life.  It's the Colombian way.  Brittany and Bryce Donovan are victims in the game.  I will return them to their mother.]

*  *  *

When Donovan noted the time, he realized that he had seen his own wife and children a total of ten minutes today.  Of course, it wasn't unusual for him to be away from them, but not when they were in the same house.  Telling Cody and Monica he was taking a break, he went upstairs.  He found Loralei and the kids in the guest room/nursery Kara and Farron had set up for them.  He saw the three of them all crowded onto a chaise lounger.  He had no way of knowing this, but Loralei had tried putting the children back to bed numerous times.  Each time she did this, they'd both begin crying or would demand that she let them 'out' with her.  Donovan didn't say anything at first.  He glanced down at his little family and asked with his eyes if there was enough room for him on the chaise.  Without a word, Loralei drew her legs toward her.  The movement didn't bother either child that much.  

"It's been a very long day," she said, her voice taking on hushed tones.  Both Tristan and Rachel were exhausted, but they kept waking up.  

He reached out and allowed his fingers to caress her ankle.  He was almost certain that she had no feeling in her legs.  "You're right, it has."  She stretched her legs out just the slightest, and he drew them across his lap.  He looked away from her for a moment, and ran his hand distractedly along a spot of flesh on her leg.  "A lot of shit has taken place between Farron and I over the years.  Most of it just touched me, but some has touched you.  We've worked it out and I have to say that I love my brother more now than I did as a child.  I can't see what he did and I'm glad I can't, but above all else, I see who he is now, and I…"  His voice completely died out.

He was taking another long guilt trip.  It was all over him.  He had been burning on work mode for several hours and now it was time to take a break.  "Frank, there's nothing else you can do for them."

He shook his head.  "No.  There were tons of things I _should _have done, but didn't.  And now, he's set to walk in a trap.  I don't intend to let him do that.  He wanted me to be with and to see my children growing up; I want to do the same for him, but I don't know if he'll allow it."  He had yet to look at her.  He kept his eyes focused on her legs.  After a long moment, he finally fixed his eyes on her face.  "If anything happens to them, Loralei, I don't…I don't know what I'll do, and I can't promise that any of them are coming back.  _I hate it_," he spat.  "I hate it and there's _nothing _I can do about these feelings inside me.  I've been in these types of situations more times that I care to remember, but _never _has it touched my family like this.  I once told a man that I win more than I lose, but it never struck me how utterly arrogant that was, and I can't say those words to Farron or Kara, because _I don't know_ if this _can_ be won.  Not this time, not with these people, and I hate myself because of it.  I have never felt so utterly helpless in my life."

Loralei shifted positions to give her enough room to sit up.  The children barely noticed the shuffle.  She cupped his face in her hands and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.  She didn't say anything, because mere words wouldn't suffice.  After she broke the kiss, he leaned his forehead against hers and held tightly onto her hand.  He never understood how she could stand to live with a human barometer or how she could take the different edges of his personality.  There were two sides to him, as there were his brother.  They were very, very lucky men to have wives like Kara and Loralei.  It was a thought that ran through his mind almost every day of his life.  He drew away from her and kneeled down close to the children.  As he had done many times while they were sleeping, he kissed two fingers and pressed them against each child's forehead.  He brought himself up to his feet and gazed down at his wife.  He mouthed 'love you' before he turned and left the room.  

*  *  *

It was growing later by the hour and Farron was losing his patience.  He noticed that Kara was wide-awake and pacing again.  If Jesus' son was anything like him, he would contact Farron in the most unique way he could dream up, and it wouldn't involve a simple cell phone call.  Earlier, the _federales _assisting with the case had finally triangulated Ortiz's location.  When his brother commanded his agents to go, Farron had turned on the dark side of his heart.  He argued with them for thirty minutes or more before Donovan backed down.  In Spanish, he had told his brother that Ortiz wouldn't harm the children, not until he had what he wanted.  And now the hour was growing later and later.  After watching Kara make another circle around the room, he approached her and put a stop to her lunatic pacing.

"Shel," he whispered.  "Take a Valium and go to bed.  I'll be up shortly."

She scrutinized his features for three minutes or more.  He didn't sound like her Farron.  It was a terrifying thought.  "You're trying to leave, aren't you?  No, Farron, I won't."

"Please," he whispered against her lips.  "Please go upstairs and sleep."

At that point, Loralei intervened.  "Come on, Kara."

However, Kara wasn't having it.  Farron watched as his wife fought back at Loralei.  He had never seen this behavior in her before.  Loralei didn't seem to notice at all, she continued to prod her until they had actually gotten upstairs.  She was arguing with and cursing at Loralei the whole way.  Silently, he thanked his sister in-law.  She was going to make his escape easier than he first thought.  Shrinking back from the rest of the group, Farron went off into an alcove that was the most beautiful part of the house.  It was only a small space, no more than 12 x 12, but the moon shined in through a low bay window and seemed to make the room glow.  Crazily enough, it was almost…holy.  A few weeks ago, Brittany had had a bad night and couldn't sleep no matter how hard her parents coaxed, begged, or pleaded.  He had sent Kara to bed because she had been up many hours with their daughter.  It was his turn.  Farron took his squalling daughter into his arms and carried her to the alcove.  The moon was shining as brightly that night as it was tonight.  He remembered thinking that just a couple of years ago no one would have caught him even touching a baby.  He had been terrified of Rachel for the first three or four weeks of her life.  Simply put, he was afraid to love, afraid to open his heart enough to let another inside.  It was a welcomed change, of course.  Farron had held the baby against his shoulder as her squalls went on and on.  Eventually, she began to quiet.  Oddly, each time he moved her out of the moonlight, her sniffles would begin again, but the instant he moved her back, she would settle down.  He had spent the night in that alcove, cradling his daughter in his arms.  By morning, he was exhausted and achy all over, but also entirely at peace.  He had never felt so loved or needed in his life.

He had never felt so empty before.  He wanted to give in and cry, but he couldn't.  It wasn't the time or the place.  He gazed out the window and waited.  He had been clutching his cell phone so tightly that his hand had begun to ache.  The sound was well muffled in the alcove, but he still heard a distinct chirping noise.  This was no call.  Ortiz, the little fuck, had decided to send a text message.  Not the most original idea in the world, but at least no one could hear it ring.  He glanced down at the screen, hit a button, and retrieved his message.  He snarled the moment he read it.

*  *  *

"Why did you do that, Loralei," Kara demanded.  

"Please keep your voice down," Loralei said.  "Make him think you took the pill and go to bed as he asked.  Both of us know he's going to try to leave without anyone tailing him.  What he doesn't know is that _we _will follow.  Once you get set up, I'm going to go to Cody for a tracking device.  Frank's probably going to kill me when he finds out what I've done, but at least someone will know.  As soon as he moves, come get me.  I'll be just down the hall."

What her sister in-law had suggested was insane, but at this point, nothing made sense anyway.  If it meant keeping Farron from sacrificing his life, she would do anything.  Although Loralei had described her time in the FBI as a 'truly _Laurel and Hardy_' tenure, she _had _served and could still handle a gun.  "This will work," Kara said rather than questioned.

"It will."

*  *  *

Farron tore away from the alcove and the comforting moonlight and slipped over to the back staircase.  He had no desire to be observed right now.  It was time to crack out Mateo and end this once and for all.  Before he went about preparing for his death, he slipped into his and Kara's bedroom and noticed that she had gone to sleep as he asked.  He leaned over as far as he dared, whispering his love for her in her ear, and then placed a gentle kiss to her cheek.  Asleep, his Shel looked just like an angel.  She would go on and have a decent life, he was sure of that.  He left her and closed the door behind him.  There were several rooms in the house and most of them were used as guest bedrooms.  However, there was one they used as storage and had filled it with things here and there that they intended to throw out.  One of those 'things' was an old trunk that Farron kept with him wherever he went.  Mostly, it fit with his old lifestyle and he was more than ready to get rid of it, but right now, he was grateful that he had kept it this long.  He kneeled down and popped the lid open.  There were several items of clothing inside and it was the type he used when in Florida or Colombia.  It was the clothing of Mateo Luis.  He never understood why he hadn't thrown it away when he and Kara became engaged, but it didn't matter anymore.  Mateo would die tonight for his sins.  He grabbed an armload of garments and carried them into the bathroom.  He flicked on the light and dressed silently in black leather pants, a matching jacket, and a black button down shirt.  Carefully, he gathered all his hair into a ponytail and secured it with a rubber band.  Swiftly, as if it hadn't been five minutes since he had last done this, he braided the hank of hair and secured the end with another band.  After one final cursory glance in the mirror, he was satisfied.  

Quietly, he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.  There was a hidden exit in the home.  Only he, Kara, and the Everett family knew of it.  Kara had once told him it was used as some type of escape tunnel by her great grandparents who were paranoid about 'the bomb.'  As if expecting this to happen, he had learned every inch of this tunnel.  He knew how to move about undetected.  It was almost like a game to him.  He made his way toward the exit that would lead to the tunnel.  As he strolled casually down it, he glanced down at his cell phone.  There was still a good signal.  He stared down at the text message again.  It was time to make contact with Raphael Ortiz.  He hit a button and his phone began to 'call back' the number from which the message was sent.  After a couple of rings, the _pincha _[prick] answered.

"_Raphael, es Mateo. Estoy en mi manera.  Que a los niños se preparen para ir a su madre._"  [Raphael, it's Mateo.  I'm on my way.  Have the children ready to go to their mother.]  Raphael laughed heartily.  Mateo wondered if he had been snorting his father's cocaine.  

"_Muy bueno, Mateo.  Los mocosos que chillan estarán listos.  Tu los verá antes tu muere, prometo._"  [Very good, Mateo.  The squalling brats will be ready.  You'll see them before you die, I promise.]

"_Muy bien, Raphael.  Antes cuelgo, hago por favor una cosa para mí, tu serato pequeño.  Coma mierda y muera._"  [Very well, Raphael.  Before I hang up, please do one thing for me, you little fucker.  Eat shit and die.]  Mateo stabbed the 'end' key and stuffed the phone into his jacket.  He had effectively escaped the house without detection [or so he thought] and now he had to find transportation.  He was in for quite a drive.

Loralei looked up and nodded when Kara entered the room.  Cody hadn't been too happy when she asked for a tracking device.  It wouldn't take long for Donovan to notice their absence, so she knew they would have to move their asses.  Kara led Loralei through the escape tunnel [the very one into which Mateo had disappeared].  She figured Farron had gone through here.  When they saw fresh footprints in the dirt, they were convinced.  Toward the end of the tunnel, both women saw the lights that secured the grounds around the clock.  The two women swiftly moved through the trees, hoping that it would provide enough cover.  When they made it to the front driveway, Loralei and Kara dove for Loralei's car.  Loralei attached the tracking device to the underside of the glove compartment and hoped it was working.  Loralei pulled the car out of the drive and kept her headlights off.  As soon as they were on the deserted suburban street, she flicked them on.  They drove for a little while before Kara gasped.  Loralei visibly jerked in her seat, immediately thinking that something was wrong.  Her eyes followed the same path as Kara's.

"Oh God," Kara moaned.  The headlights of Loralei's car had illuminated the figure of a young man breaking into a car.  It was Farron, nearly unrecognizable in black leather and tied back hair.  Neither woman had ever seen him like this.  "Did he see us?"

Loralei shook her head.  "I don't think so.  He might have ducked down when we approached."  She coasted the car to a halt a few blocks up.  Loralei parked between two cars just up the street.  "We'll wait.  Soon enough, he'll pass us."

Mateo came out of his tight crouch.  He vaguely wondered if the occupants of the vehicle that just passed saw him.  It mattered little.  By the time the police were summoned, he would be long gone.  _Add grand theft auto to your exhaustive list of sins, Mateo.  Good job.  _

"I think this is him," Kara whispered.

They ducked down as the car moved past them.  When it was out of sight, Loralei put her car in gear and carefully pulled away from the curb.  "We're leading the team right to him, Kara.  It's going to be all right."

*  *  *

Cody watched the small blip on his screen.  He knew exactly what part of town they were heading toward and he couldn't believe it.  _No way.  They're not going where I think they are_.  _Couldn't be.  I'm hallucinating.  Yes.  That's it._

Donovan's attention was drawn to the screen.  What the hell was Cody doing?  Before he had the chance to actually voice the question, his heart began to pound alarmingly fast.  _Jesus Christ.  _He took off upstairs as fast as his feet and legs could carry him.  Except for Tristan and Rachel, the guest room/nursery was vacated.  He ran down the hall to Kara and Farron's bedroom.  Nothing.  There was, however, a note for him.  He snagged it down off the dresser mirror.  _I requested a tracking device from Cody.  Don't yell at him_, Loralei had written.  _We can blend in better than you and your team.  Cody is watching out for us for now, but I suggest you see him as soon as you read this note.  Love you.  LD_.  He balled the note up into his fist.  _Goddamn it_.  What the hell did she think she was doing?  He absolutely didn't intend to lose his entire family in one shot.  He tore back down the stairs and into the living room.  It was at that juncture Cody began to await the wrath of Donovan.

"I can assure you we will discuss this later," Donovan said severely.  "But right now, I'm focused on getting everyone back home safe and alive."

Cody cleared his throat.  "Sure, Boss."  He hoped Donovan would give him time to say goodbye to the kids before he killed him.  "They're going toward Alca Huete's old hideout."

"_What_," he asked in disbelief.  He shook his head.  "Of course they are.  Kara nearly died in that building.  I wouldn't be afraid to guess that Brittany and Bryce won't be within ten miles of there.  Goddamn it," he swore.  "Farron just signed his fucking death certificate."  Donovan nodded toward Jake and Alex.  "It's time to get the hell out of here.  Separate cars.  Stay well away from the area.  We'll have to launch our attack on foot."

--To be continued…


	10. Time to Live

El TIEMPO de VIVIR [TIME TO LIVE]

The car Mateo had 'borrowed' was a piece of shit.  The transmission was whiny, the brakes squeaky, and the fucking radio didn't work.  The only good thing about it was its tires.  It had managed to get him where he needed to go.  Although it had been some time since he had been here, it hadn't taken him long to find the place.  There was a weak light illuminating three or four figures standing in the doorway.  _Alca Huete all over again_.  He didn't understand why the _federales _hadn't seized this building for evidence.  He shrugged it off.  Nothing about the Ortiz _familia _made any sense.  He put the shitty car in park and sat for a moment behind the wheel.  _You are a yellow dog, Mateo.  Get out of the fucking car and take your medicine.  _He reached out with his left hand to grab the door handle and stopped.  There was a gold wedding band encircling his finger.  He stared down at the piece of gold for several moments.  Bizarre.  Since when did Mateo Luis have a wife?  Since never.  He made moves to take it off, but the moment he touched the ring, he stopped.  _This gold band has not left your finger since the day of your wedding.  If you take it off now, you can never go back._  He pushed at the door and got out of the car.  _Do I truly believe that I **will** go back?  What am I thinking?_  Mateo didn't try to hide or duck; there was no use.  Ortiz knew he was coming and was probably monitoring the situation anyway.  He made his way slowly through the brush.  Apparently, this building had been vacant until just recently.  How sick was this fucker to meet here?  The men at the door watched as the tall man draped in black leather slowly approached.  Their _jefe _[boss] had told them to expect Mateo.  Only one of the men knew Luis.  Pedro Rivera had been one of the lesser Ortiz _hermanos_ [brothers].  The 'legend' of Mateo Luis and Pablo Dominguez was longstanding.  Mateo was known for his trafficking prowess and Pablo for his cruelty.  When Mateo was close enough to the men to discern features, he immediately recognized Pedro.  He could see that Pedro wanted to shoot him.  The two of them had always been at each other.  Pedro wanted to beat Mateo, but each time he handled a 'shipment' for Ortiz, he wound up behind bars.  The man was an _el perdedor patético _[pathetic loser].

Pedro grinned toward Mateo, but it didn't reach his eyes.  It never did.  "_¿Tan tu vuelve al doblez, eh Mateo?  Raphael será mucho complació para verlo_."  [So you return to the fold, eh Mateo?  Raphael will be much pleased to see you.]

Mateo eyed the other man up and down, his lips contorted into a vicious snarl.  "_Tengo no negocio con tu.  Yo'M para aquí ver Raphael.  O dice mí donde el bastardo es o yo joder empuja mi manera por la puerta._"  [I have no business with you.  I'm here to see Raphael.  Either tell me where the bastard is or I will fucking shove my way through the door.]

With a shiteating grin on his face, Pedro moved away from the door, going so far as to open it for him.  Mateo didn't trust the man as far as he could throw him.  As he slipped into the building, he kept his eyes glued on the other man.  _This will be a long night.  The only thing that offers me comfort is the fact that I will never have to do this again.  _

*  *  *

Raphael was watching the activity from one of the interior rooms on the other side of the building.  Most of it had been obliterated by the _federales _when they took down Alca Huete and his gang.  However, he had managed to salvage a few rooms here and there.  One of them would hold Mateo until it was time for him to die.  The young man had a few tricks up his sleeve involving the squalling brats.  When he thought of them, he dug out his cell phone and made a couple of calls.  How could he torture Mateo without the babies?  After he disconnected his last call, he groaned angrily.  His plan had been working perfectly until Lisa fucked it up.  Whenever he saw the _puta _[bitch] again, he would kill her slowly, and make her beg for mercy.  He hated squealers more than he hated yellow dogs.  

*  *  *

Loralei pulled her car close to a ravine off the road.  Both women recognized this place and hated it equally.  There weren't any lights in this area of town, so Loralei figured they could make it to the building before they were detected.  In the back of her mind, she hoped that Donovan and the team weren't far behind.  For the first time in almost a year and a half, Loralei put her hands on a gun.  She was still registered to carry, but she hadn't used one since she and Kara were here last.  Tonight, they might need it.  She glanced at Kara and noticed that her sister in-law was distant and quiet.  Seeing Farron like they had had done a job on her.  Of course, Loralei understood.  If she had seen her husband like that, she might have difficulty vocalizing as well.  Unbeknownst to both women, their husbands had once sat together like this, sick with worry, wondering if the people they loved would make it out alive.  

Before Kara made a move to get out of the car, she had to drive the images out of her mind.  The man stealing the car was not her husband.  He was some horrible thief in the night who had taken the man she loved.  This was the man he had told her about when they first met, the man who trafficked drugs for a living, but wouldn't shoot a man.  She had never been exposed to this Mateo Luis ever before and it rattled her to her core.  She couldn't associate that man on the street with the one who came into the delivery room with her when their twins were born.  The man she knew held his tiny babies for the first time and cried.  She had never seen him so animated or so happy before, not even on their wedding day.  She couldn't associate the two different sides of her husband.  It was as if he _were _another person.  A crazy thought entered her mind, one that she was completely tempted to ask Loralei.  _Do the Donovan brothers have an evil triplet out there somewhere?  _The thought nearly made her laugh.  Good God, she was hysterical.  

Kara finally looked at her sister in-law.  "Can we go now?  The longer we stay here, the closer to…I can't say it."

Loralei nodded.  "We'll go."

*  *  *

Donovan, Alex, and Jake were stalking three different locations surrounding the outer fringes of the building.  Upon approaching, he had seen Loralei's car and immediately went over to it.  Of course, neither his wife nor his sister in-law were still inside.  It was stupid of him to think that they would be in the car.  It was too easy.  It didn't help him when he noticed several fresh clips scattered about the car seat.  He immediately knew that Loralei had armed herself.  He wondered if Kara had as well.  Donovan was livid and worried at the same time.  Before the night was through, he thought his head might explode.  He wanted to kill his wife and kiss her at the same time.  He had moved away from the car and hid in the overgrown foliage around the hospital's grounds.  He could see nothing.  Every few minutes, Jake and Alex reported that they saw nothing.  Cody did the same.  Donovan tried not to remember what happened the last time the group was here.  Loralei was pregnant with Tristan and she and Kara had been abducted.  He hadn't had an inkling of an idea if either woman was going to make it out alive.  The same feelings were surging through him right now.  _Almost all my family in one shot.  I won't let it happen.  Not tonight, not ever.  _Donovan cursed under his breath.  They couldn't be that far behind Loralei and Kara.  _Where the hell are they?  _If they weren't all in stealth mode, he would have called out.  The thought swam crazily through his head and he nearly laughed.  Goddamn.  He was losing his mind.  The tiny speaker shoved in his head came to life as Jake's voice declared that he saw movement ahead.  He was tempted to ask Jake if the 'movement' involved two women.  _Stay focused.  You can't let your insane wife rattle you.  Work mode, work mode, work mode.  Remember that._  

*  *  *

Loralei and Kara had made their way toward the back of the building.  It was the side not lit up.  Kara shivered suddenly, recalling that this was the side of the building where she and Loralei had been dragged to, where they nearly became cocaine call girls.  Both women heard activity around the front of the building.  Loralei cursed indignantly and grabbed her sister in-law's forearm.  The two women ducked back into the brush.  Coming out into the clear were two beefy looking men.  They were speaking Spanish back and forth.  Loralei strained to listen to the conversation.  She knew only a little more Spanish than Kara [which wasn't very damn much], but she thought she could discern enough to let her know if they were in trouble.  The men were speaking in hushed tones, likely doing it on purpose.  _Good God_, Loralei thought.  _They know we're here_.  Of course they knew.  What the hell did she think would happen?  Did she honestly believe that Ortiz wouldn't be waiting and watching?  Hell, they knew Farron had a brother who was a damn federal agent.  They might have just enough time to get back to the car and call in the reserves.  Using gestures, she indicated to Kara that it was time to retreat.  Donovan and the gang _had _to be here by now.  Although Kara didn't want to move come hell or high water, she noticed the frightened look on her sister in-law's face.  Their secret was out.

They moved quietly through the brush, wincing each time the bushes crackled or moved.  Ahead of her, Kara thought she saw movement.  The figure seemed somewhat familiar to her.  _Frank_.  He was several feet ahead, but if she wanted to get his attention, she would have to shout.  Hopefully, he noticed them.  Behind her, she heard a muffled whimper and then a thud.  When she whipped around, her sister in-law was gone.  She didn't have time to scream for help or to breathe.  A set of strong arms grabbed her tightly around the waist.  She struggled against the arms and beat at the hands.  A pair of lips came down to her ear and the breath was fetid, as if he had swallowed something rotten.  The scary part of it was that this man was _familiar _to her.  He opened his mouth and began to release his poison.  _Tan encontramos otra vez, la ramera.  Si tu hace cualquier ruido, yo chasquearé su es cuello que jode, y entonces chasquearé los cuellos de sus bebés amarillos de perro._  [So we meet again, bitch.  If you make any noise, I'll snap your fucking neck, and then I'll snap the necks of your yellow dog babies.]  Kara couldn't understand a word, but she knew this man, she knew who he was as well as she knew her own shoe size.  He had taken her babies, had torn her family apart, and now she had walked right into his hands.  She wished for Loralei's gun.  She would surely put a bullet in this man's head.  

*  *  *

Thinking he heard something ahead, Donovan pushed forward with his gun at the ready.  The brush around him was trampled.  The sickening smell of broken greenery suddenly filled his nostrils.  Whatever battle was held here was recently fought.  He looked around the area and saw something sticking within a pricker bush.  _What the hell?  _Not feeling the sting of the injuries he was receiving, he ripped his hand through the middle of the bush and snagged the piece of cloth that had caught his attention.  It was from a blouse of a woman.  _Loralei_.  _Goddamn it.  _The fuckers inside had taken his wife, had likely taken his sister in-law as well.  Once again, the thought that he might lose the majority of his family tonight ran through his mind.  He had to knock it out, knock it back into the recesses of his mind.  _Work mode, work mode, work mode_.  Shaking himself out of the horror, he managed to report to his agents what he had found.  Regardless whether or not Ortiz was aware of their presence, it was time to enter the building and tear it apart.  Perhaps later, he and Farron would return to these grounds and burn this place to the ground.  After that, no other Colombian heavies could call it home.  

*  *  *

With a moan, Loralei regained consciousness.  Her head hurt like a bitch and moving only increased the pain, bringing with it a sharp woozy feeling.  _Dizzy.  I'm dizzy._  Who the hell hit her and with what?  Wonderingly, she looked down at her arm.  _My fucking sleeve is missing_.  Struggling a little, she brought her body up to her knees and she was rocked by another strong wave of dizziness.  If she ever found the guy, she would fucking kill him.  She glanced around at her environment and groaned.  She was stuck in one of the cell-like rooms.  _Déjà vu.  _Another wave of vertigo attacked her again and for a frightening moment, she thought she might vomit.  _No stomach pyrotechnics tonight, my dear.  _After the dizziness and nausea subsided, she suddenly remembered Kara.  Taking a deep breath, she brought herself up to her feet.  The dizziness struck again and she caught herself on the rusty cot frame.  _I'm going to beat the living shit out of whoever did this_.  She walked carefully up to the door and peered out the small window.  The hall was dark and seemingly deserted.  Her captors had likely thrown her in a cell far away from the activity.  _Activity.  From the murder, you mean_.  Knowing it was a useless feat she reached out and took hold of the door handle.  She cursed out loud when it didn't turn in her hand.  _Stupid, stupid, Loralei.  Did you truly think the door wouldn't be locked?  You're a damn idiot.  _The jerk who hit her had taken her gun.  She was basically defenseless.  A couple of thoughts assaulted her repeatedly.  Where the hell had the men taken Kara?  Where the hell were the babies?

*  *  *

Donovan, Jake, and Alex went in three different directions.  Donovan was surprised that no one had come running around to the back to gun him down.  It was a feeling that made his stomach lurch.  He thought he felt every hair on his body standing on end.  There were bullet holes scattered all about the outer walls.  He was amazed that so much shooting had occurred here a year and a half ago.  All of them were lucky to have made it out alive.  Would they be so lucky tonight?  He shoved it back again.  _Work mode, work mode, work mode.  _He heard his team checking in periodically, and he responded in kind, but he honestly couldn't remember a word he said.  He caught sight of a gaping hole in the wall.  When he approached, he realized it was one of the cells with its window broken out.  He told the crew what he was doing, but again, his voice seemed no more than a drone, a warbling sound one might hear when near a beehive.  Carefully, alert times ten, he took the discarded sleeve and wrapped it around his hand.  From the look of the window, there wasn't any glass in it, but he wouldn't take any chances.  Reaching up, he took hold of the windowsill and to get enough leverage to begin the process of pulling himself over.  When he didn't feel any jagged glass, he reached up with his other hand and thrust his body upward.  He landed badly, his leg connecting with a burned out cot frame.  He gritted his teeth angrily against the unexpected pain and noise.  _Why didn't I just fucking knock on the goddamn door and ask for coffee and cake?_  _Very subtle._

In the room to the immediate left, Loralei looked up suddenly when she heard a distant thud.  It sounded as if it had come from directly next-door.  _Impossible.  You're hearing things.  _She sat quietly, holding her breath.  Perhaps the noise would come again.  It was either one of the team or one of the bad guys.  The noise didn't repeat itself, however, she heard something else.  It sounded like a door creaking open ever so slowly.  She didn't understand how she could hear everything next door.  Weren't the cells soundproof?  _Duh…this side of the old hospital wasn't used, you idiot.  Didn't you learn anything the last time you came here?  _Of course, her cell was perfect [for a ratty, rotten space].  Unless they [_Frank_] were looking for her, they would never hear or see her.  When she heard the door close, she smashed her face up against the window, but couldn't see the person.  Whoever it was [_Frank_] had joggled left instead of right.  She took hold of the door handle to steady herself as a wave of dizziness struck her again.  _When will this stop eating at me?_

Donovan moved down the dark as midnight hallway.  There was no light anywhere.  What part of the damn building were they in?  Before he lost his bearings, he turned around and walked back from where he came.  The minutes were ticking away and the longer they waited, the riskier the game became.  He moved along the inside wall, keeping his body close to the darkness.  Someone would only detect his movements if he or she smacked right up against him.  He walked past the room where he made his entry and came upon something odd.  There was a bright shiny key sticking into the lock of Cell 115.  He had the greatest urge to keep on moving.  He might not want to see what was behind that door.  However, his mind was pushing him, prodding him.  

Loralei's head shot up [causing another wicked wave of dizziness to rock her] when she heard the key turning in the lock.  Up until now, she had been crouching by the rotten cot, trying to think of a way to get herself, Farron, and Kara out of this mess.  Someone was coming after her.  _Well, let's just see about that.  If you want to kill me, you'll have a nice little fight on your hands.  _She duck walked to the opposite wall of the cell and straightened her body flat against the pitted concrete.  She couldn't see the face of her attacker, but that was okay.  As soon as she heard the footsteps, she lashed out blindly, tripping the bastard and knocking him to the floor.

Donovan tasted dirt and smelled moldy bedding.  _Jesus Christ.  What the hell hit me_?  After his French kiss with the floor ended, he heard an all too familiar gasp and a cry of '_oh shit_.'  A moment later, a hand was grasping his arm, desperately trying to turn him over.  Disoriented and a bit perplexed, he didn't know what to do first.  Should he cuff her and throw her in the back of his car?  Should he grab her and kiss her until she could no longer breathe?  Should he return the favor and allow her to French kiss the floor?

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.  "Oh God, baby, I'm sorry.  Are you all right?"

What, exactly, was she apologizing for?  Running off or knocking him down?  For a moment…a _brief _moment he came out of 'work mode' and became 'pissed off husband.'  "What the hell were you thinking?"  How many times during their relationship had they had this conversation?  Did it ever work?  Did she ever listen?

"I was trying to help keep Kara's husband and your brother alive," she said.

"I'll deal with you…and Cody…later.  Are _you _okay?"  His eyes were searching her face in the dark.

"I got hit on the head, but I'm fine," she insisted.

Incredulously, he gazed at her.  Did she think he was going to give her a gun and let her flank him or something?  "You're going with Jake.  He's the closest to us.  You're not to step back inside this building.  Do you know where Kara is?"

She shook her head.  "No."

He kissed her then, hard and deeply.  He tasted like dirt, but she didn't give a fuck.  When he broke the kiss, he placed his hand on the side of her neck.  "Go," he said.  "The room next door has a broken out window.  Exit that way."  He reaffixed his earpiece.  "Jake, come around.  Take my wife and lock her in my car.  Stand guard until this is over."

She might have argued with him if she didn't feel like shit.  Not trusting her an inch, Donovan led Loralei into the cell next door and watched until she climbed out the window.  He glanced out and watched as she met Jake halfway.  His wife was utterly insane, but he loved the hell out of her.

*  *  *

Kara paced the floor crazily, much as she had done back at the house.  She wondered absently if this was the same dank and dirty cell Alca Huete's gang had locked her away in before.  The night she and Loralei had been abducted was the night she discovered she was hopelessly in love with Farron.  He had been shot trying to protect her and she thought he had been killed.  When Farron showed up alongside his brother and his team to rescue her and Loralei, she had known then that she never wanted to be apart from him.  

She stopped her useless pacing and leaned her forehead up against the cold dirty metal door.  He wouldn't be saving her this night, and she had failed in her pitiful attempt to save him.  She prayed that Loralei was safe and that Donovan had gotten Loralei's message.  She didn't know how much time they had left, but she was sure it was very little.  

She turned and put her back up against the door.  Where was Farron?  Was he with the babies?  Would the man she had witnessed earlier even recognize his children?  Would they know him?  "Oh God," she groaned, unable to deal with the agonizing thought of their twins being without their father.  Would Farron have the chance to see them before… 

She punched back at the door as she pushed away from it and resumed her pacing.  _It's not fair,_ her mind screamed.  He had changed, had redeemed himself, hadn't he?  "He deserves better than this," she screamed at the ceiling, angry at the Powers-That-Be.  "We deserve better than this," she whispered.  

Kara was lost.  She didn't know what to do, didn't know what was happening.  Her family might be dead at that very moment and she was trapped like a caged animal.  She took a step and stopped abruptly.  For a second there, she had thought she had heard a sound.  She listened intently, but there was nothing.  She was beginning to imagine things.  Maybe she was becoming hysterical just as she had thought back in the car.  She shook her head and took another step.  The sound came again, this time louder, and her heart lurched.  Her breath caught in her throat as she moved to the door and strained toward the sound.  It was the unmistakable sound of an infant's cry.  To the untrained ear, it sounded like one child, but Kara heard the distinct wails of each of her babies.  _Alive.  My babies are alive!_

Kara sobbed as she began beating against the door, demanding to be let out.  As if they could hear the sound of her voice, the children's wailing grew louder, more insistent.  "Give me my babies, you fucking bastards," she screamed.  When no one came to the door to shut her up and the cries of her infants began to fade, Kara sank to her knees on the floor.  She wrapped her arms around herself and began rocking.  "Mommy's here, darlings.  Mommy's here," she repeated over and over.   

--To be continued…


	11. Back to Formula

BACK TO FORMULA

Mateo had been dragged from a darkened room and led to a dilapidated elevator.  Although he was facing his death, he had quite the smug smile on his face.  Pedro and one of his buddies had had to cuff his hands together.  The swelling might go down in Pedro's nose in a couple of days.  He actually hoped he had broken it.  There were a number of times that he wanted to break his nose.  Mateo watched with great interest as Pedro stabbed a button.  Curiously, the other man had hit 'G.'  They were taking him to…the morgue?  How appropriate.  He would meet his final end in an abandoned hospital morgue.  He shook his head and found a deep chuckle building in his throat.  Mateo had no idea why he found that thought so deliciously funny, but it was.  _No burial necessary.  Just take my cold dead corpse and throw it into the nearest meat locker.  Burn the building and have done with it all.  _At that point, he couldn't help it.  He began chuckling and then it became full force laughter.  Pedro and his bulldog _hermano_ released his forearms when he began laughing like a loon.  Perhaps they were afraid his insanity would spread.  After several long seconds, his laughter finally dried up.  He had laughed so hard that there were tears in his eyes.  Mateo couldn't wipe them away because his hands were cuffed behind his back.  Instead, he blinked them away.  He had no idea how in the hell he could find it in him to laugh.  He figured it was because there was nothing else to fear.  He was no longer a yellow dog running to keep his ass safe while others paid for his mistakes.  Mateo took in a deep breath and then let it out very slowly.  He felt better at this moment than he had since…since [_the babies were born_]…  He chewed on his bottom lip.  It was much better for him not to focus on that, because if he did, he would lose every ounce of his composure.

The elevator ride down to the ground floor lasted no longer than a few moments, but it seemed like a lifetime to Mateo.  The ancient elevator stopped and jarred the men hard enough to rattle their teeth.  The doors came open slowly and Mateo saw weak light paving the way toward his death.  In the back of his mind, he heard another little voice popping up in the back of his head.  _Dead man walking!_  Hadn't he heard that in a movie somewhere?  He couldn't remember, but again, he found it deliciously funny.  Another chuckle was building within him, however this time, he was able to control it.  Perhaps he would wait and laugh in Raphael's face instead.  Wouldn't the little _pincha _[prick] love it?  At the end of the hallway, his eyes focused on the room before him.  It was mostly deserted.  There were no tables or trays or instruments once used for autopsy.  _I'll bet that angered Raphael.  I would have paid to see his tantrum_.  The only piece of furniture in the entire room was a desk, and an expensive one from the look of it.  It seemed horridly out of place in this cold and barren room.  Behind the desk was who he assumed to be Raphael Ortiz.  Mateo was surprised.  He looked nothing like his father.  He was tall and thin with very long black hair tied back with a hank of rawhide.  His features were sharp and cruel; his eyes were like small black marbles.  The younger Ortiz gave off an aura of an Aztec heritage.  He could see how a young woman could be sucked in by his looks and false charm.  One look convinced Mateo that this man was vicious and sadistic.  It was the only trait he had in common with his father.  

On the other side of the desk, Raphael Ortiz studied the alleged _legendary_ Mateo Luis.  There was nothing special about the man.  He was well over six feet tall and very dark.  He had the dark eyes and black hair of the _hermanos_.  He was no more Colombian than his _puta _[whore].  However, he could see how Mateo blended in, how he passed in the gang.  His father had put his complete trust in this yellow dog, but seeing him in person, he couldn't understand why.  What was it about him that was so grand and special?  _This _was his father's top trafficker?  It was completely sad.  His father must have been slipping up before Mateo called in the _federales_.  Slowly, Raphael stood and approached the front of his desk.  He didn't get too close to Mateo.  _Watch him, my son_, the voice of his father said.  _He is very sneaky.  He blended in with us for many years.  Watch him._  With Pedro and Ramon flanking each side of Mateo, there wasn't much that he could do.

Raphael smiled.  "I suppose my father never mentioned he had a son, did he," he began.  "And yes, Mateo, I speak the English, because there are a few surprises awaiting you.  I don't want to spoil the fun."  He crossed his arms over his chest and broadened his smile.  He truly hated this bastard standing before him.  "After I unveil my gifts to you, I'll leave you to Pedro.  I'm sure he'll enjoy beating the shit out of you before he graces you with the ultimate of all gifts.  You do know what a Colombian necktie is, don't you?  I'm sure you've seen it done many times."  He tapped his chin thoughtfully.  "Maybe you haven't.  Weren't you the _hermano _who wouldn't kill a man?  Ah, but you did.  You cut down Pablo Dominguez.  He was your running buddy.  How could you murder your own _hermano_, Mateo?  Of course, yellow dogs tend to do that type of thing."

Mateo gritted his teeth together and felt his blood pressure rising.  To call Dominguez his brother was like kicking him in the groin with a steel-toed boot.  It pissed him off thoroughly.  If his hands were free…  "Pablo wasn't my _hermano_.  I have only _one _brother and he would never associate with the likes of you.  I killed him to protect my brother."  He shook his head.  His old/new self was creeping back in.  Mateo didn't have a brother, but Farron did.  _Give up the façade.  You left the life almost three years ago.  You can no longer keep it up._  "Torture me.  Cut me to small pieces.  _I…don't…care_.  You can have your bulldogs finish me in this room.  Do what you must.  I'm here, I've met your demands, and now you must meet mine.  You above anyone else should know that it's not the Colombian way to break a deal.  _Where…are…the…babies?_"  His last four words were bit out through gritted teeth.  Behind him, his hands were clenched in tight fists.  He kept his fingernails short, but he could feel them cutting into his flesh.  Somehow, he didn't think the younger Ortiz was going to honor their deal.

The smile never left Ortiz's face.  "Mateo, did you think I would make your death quick or painless?  Do you think my father rotting away in a prison cell is quick and painless?  Have you ever been in prison, Mateo?  I don't think so.  You have a _federale _brother who keeps your balls out of the fire.  You should have gone down with my father, but you didn't.  You spilled your yellow guts and got off on a technicality.  With that said, why should I honor our deal?  At this very moment, in this very building, I have all I need to avenge my father."  

Mateo lunged for Ortiz, but his bulldogs held him back.  Farron was slowly creeping in, trying to take over again.  _Let him go, you are not Mateo anymore.  _He knew he was walking into a trap, walking toward his own death.  However, he didn't expect Raphael to back out.  No matter how unreasonable or cruel Jesus Ortiz was, he never broke a deal.  His son was different.  If he ever came to power like Ortiz did, hell would arrive on earth.  "The babies are innocents, Ortiz.  They have never caused anyone any harm.  They will _not _pay for my sins.  Release the babies to their mother, take me, and _finish me_.  Finish me and end this mindless game of vengeance."

Ortiz laughed again and shook his head.  "I can't believe that you're the man my father once spoke so highly of.  He painted you as a strong, ruthless trafficker.  You were a man I aspired to be some day.  And now I look at you and you're pathetic, Mateo.  You're a sniveling coward trying to talk your way into release.  I have no sympathy for you or those babies."

"I don't want your sympathy, you fucker.  I want you to honor the deal you struck.  As much as I hated your father, he honored his deals.  He never shirked them.  I see you're nothing like him," Mateo said.  "What have you done with the babies, Raphael?  That's all I want to know."

"Pathetic, Mateo, absolutely pathetic.  I'm thoroughly tired of listening to your voice.  It hurts my head, and turns my stomach, almost as much as listening to your brats wailing.  Goddamn, they cry so much.  Your children are very spoiled, Mateo.  What is it that you and your wife do to them that makes them cry so much?  Perhaps your wife should have breastfed them?  Maybe that would have fixed them up.  Do you think?  I've seen the little yellow dogs on many occasions.  They look exactly like you.  What are their names?  Brittany?  Bryce?  Is that it?  Your children will grow up…maybe… knowing that their father was a fucking coward."  He watched Mateo's facial expression change from a snarl to a look of horror.  It was the first time all night that he had seen any emotion on the man's face.  While he was locked away in a cell, he watched as Mateo casually sat on the cot as if he didn't have a care in the world.  Ortiz reasoned that Mateo must not have loved his children as much as he once thought.  However, right at that moment, Mateo was gone, and the father of those squalling brats was beginning to kick in.  It was exactly what he wanted.  Mateo was a sad shell of his former self.  He went from being a man he greatly admired as a teenager to one he wanted to pity.  "So, Mateo, I do think it's time for us to get started.  I thought it would be nice for you to see your bastards one last time before you go.  There are a couple of other things I would like to do before Pedro and Ramon take you away."

Mateo watched as Raphael moved to a door just behind his desk.  He opened it and stuck his head through, calling out an order in Spanish.  Mateo couldn't hear it all, but it sounded like 'bring them in.'  A young woman, probably no older than 'Lisa,' pushed a stroller into the room.  Two healthy sets of lungs chimed in immediately.  As if sensing their father's presence, they began to cry even louder.    

It was Mateo who watched as the babies were pushed in front of him and gave the girl who handled their stroller a cursory glance.  When his eyes moved slowly toward the twins, it was Farron who took a step forward, only to be pulled back roughly and shoved to his knees.  He also took a hard shot to the ribs, but he never felt the pain.  His eyes were focused on his children.  His heart broke to see them, crying and reaching for him, unable to understand why he was not offering them any comfort.  His breath left him in deep angry bursts.  He was more than willing to die for his sins, to die for his children, but it was unfathomable to him how anyone would take pleasure in killing a child.  _My children._

"Crawl to your bastards, Mateo," Raphael snarled.  "Crawl like the pig animal you are."

Farron jerked his arms loose from Pedro and Ramon and glared up at him.  "What more do you want, Raphael?  You will have your revenge…send them home."

"No more words, Mateo," Raphael ordered.  He reached down and grabbed Mateo by the collar and dragged him to his squalling brats.  "How do you stand them, Mateo?  Their noise is deafening."

Farron whipped his head toward Ortiz and glared at him.  "Shut your fucking mouth."

Raphael laughed wickedly.  "I grow tired of you."  He waved to Pedro.  "Watch him.  I will be but a moment."

Farron barely noticed Ortiz leave the room.  His mind was going numb; he could feel the end nearing and his only wish was that through some miracle, his children would get back to their mother.  Kneeling before Brittany and Bryce, Farron bent toward them, pressing soft kisses and whispering soothingly to them.  He heard the snickering and crude comments passing between Pedro and Ramon, but it never fazed him.  The only thing that was getting through was the feel of tiny fingers and fists as they pressed into his cheek.  He hadn't wanted to see the children again, not really.  It was so hard to let go, but it wasn't as if he had a choice in the matter.  His twins had quieted down to just a sniffle here or there.  Inwardly he smiled.  They were good babies; they responded to his love just as their mother did, and returned it unconditionally.  He kissed them once more before whispering, "Be good, take care of your mother, and please…please do not ever forget how important you are to each other."

It was a lesson he learned the hard way.  He had let jealousy get in his way and it tore him away from his twin and eventually his entire family. He prayed that never happened to his babies.  He was so immersed in his thoughts that he never heard the door opening.

Kara was frightened out of her mind, certain she was about to meet her end. The man who had taken her from her cell held her from behind with his hand clamped over her mouth.  The errant thought of whom he was afraid she would call out to tickled her brain.  It was almost hilarious.  There was no one.  She focused her eyes as the man reached out and opened the door in front of her.  It was all she could do to control the hysteria that was building within her.  

Her eyes widened when she beheld the sight of Farron crouched before the stroller, talking softly to the twins.  She struggled to free herself, but only managed to cause the man's hand to move slightly.  It was just enough for her to get a good grip on his fingers with her teeth and bite down as hard as she could.

Raphael howled in pain as he pulled away and backhanded Mateo's whore, watching with a sick thrill how she fell hard to the floor, whimpering as she covered her wounded face.  "_Maldita puta! _" [Fucking whore!]

Ortiz's scream caused the twins to squall.  Farron made moves to get to his feet to somehow inflict pain on Oritz for touching his wife, but Pedro quickly kicked him back to the floor.  He was literally dying inside.  Never, ever had he thought Kara would have been foolish enough to follow him.  Because he had insisted on handling this on his own, meeting Raphael's demands and finally paying penance for his misdeeds, he had forced his wife into a deadly game.  He glared at Ortiz.  "If you take your twisted revenge out on my family, you can be certain that my brother will avenge them.  Take me…only me…and you…and your father…may live.  Hurt my wife and children, and I can assure you…my brother will see you both dead."

While the two men stared each other down, Kara scrambled toward Farron and her babies, uncaring if anyone would try to stop her.  She was torn between wanting to embrace her husband and cherish her children.  She touched Brittany and Bryce's little faces, wiping their tears away, before kissing their foreheads.  She began to unstrap Bryce, wanting to hold him and his sister in her arms, but was quickly stopped when she was yanked to her feet by the hair.  She cried out with the pain, but still managed to touch Farron's cheek before she was pulled out of reach.

"You think I am afraid of your _brother_?  I hold all the cards here, Mateo."  

Farron was beyond words now.  He saw a flash of light as it danced off the sharp edge of the knife Raphael held in his hand.  He took in the demented pleasure that flashed in Raphael's eyes as he drew it along the length of Kara's neck until it rested near her jugular.  The sad fact was he was completely helpless to do anything to help her.  

"Maybe…it would be worth your brother's wrath to slice up your _puta_ [whore].  You would cry, I think.  You, who pretend to be so strong and cold; you, who sits on his knees cooing to those snotty yellow dog children…oh yes, you would cry like your squalling brats."

* * *

Frank reached for the door.  He could swear that the building grew and added rooms on to itself as if by magic.  The walk down the hallway had to be the longest he had ever taken before.  He checked over his shoulder and nodded to Alex, who stood with her gun aimed at the doorway.  His eyes widened momentarily when he spotted movement down at the end of the hall.  He quickly recognized Jake and silently cursed him.  He made a mental note to kick his ass later for not staying with Loralei.

* * *

Farron was about to respond to Ortiz when a squeal echoed through the room.  His attention, along with everyone else's in the room, turned quickly to the opening door.

Raphael loosened his grip slightly when he became startled.  Kara used the opportunity to pull away.  Farron had never been so glad to see his brother, or his team, in his life.  Within the blink of an eye, two shots were fired, effectively taking out Pedro and Ramon.  And just as quickly, Kara screamed when Ortiz pulled her back toward him.  All eyes watched as her body collided with Ortiz and the force knocked them back against the wall and then down to the floor where Ortiz landed on top of her.

Farron felt as though a truck had just hit him.  All the air had left his lungs and he could not breathe.  He stared for what felt like hours, but in reality was only a few seconds, as the blood pooled beside the bodies.  _Oh God, no! Shel!_  He struggled against the cuffs as he growled, "Get me out of these goddamn cuffs…**_now_**!"

As Alex unlocked Farron's cuffs, Frank went to his sister in-law.  With his gun fixed on Ortiz's head, he used his foot to roll the man off Kara.  There was so much blood, he could not tell whose it was.  He wasn't sure how he expected this disastrous evening to turn out, but he never expected this.  He crouched down at her side just as Farron joined them and as his brother gathered his wife into his arms, Frank's eyes focused on the knife firmly embedded in Raphael Oritz's chest.

Farron cradled Kara in his arms and caressed her cheek.  With a startled gasp, her eyes flew open and slowly focused on Farron's face.  "Am I dreaming," she whispered.

"No, _querida_," he answered as he lowered his head to kiss her tenderly.  "You are a brave woman, Kara Michelle Donovan."

"And as foolhardy as your sister in-law," Frank supplied as he stood.  "You both could have been killed."

"Oh God!  Loralei…we were separated," Kara cried as she scrambled to her feet.

"She's fine.  I stumbled across her…literally."

"Thank God," Kara replied as she held out her arms when Alex lifted Bryce from the stroller and handed him to her.  Brittany followed and was soon happily cooing within the arms of her father.  As she watched him tenderly stroke her little cheek and kiss her tiny hand, Kara felt something was not quite right.  Instantly she knew what it was.  She stepped closer and stood on tiptoes as she pressed a kiss to his cheek.  Her hand moved to the back of his head and slowly removed the bands that held his hair tied back.  After his braid had been undone, Farron cast a questioning look down at her, to which she replied, "I want my husband back."

He touched his forehead to hers.  "I'm sorry he ever had to leave you.  I'm sorry for so many things."

Kara touched a finger to his lips, stopping him.  "Don't ever apologize to me again for who you were then or who you are now.  I love you."

"Oh God, Shel…I love you, too."

A disgruntled gurgle sounded from both babies causing Kara and Farron to laugh.  It felt good to laugh again.  Happy laughter.  They kissed their babies and said, "We love you, too."

*  *  *

As the group began to make their way out of the building [pushing along a few stragglers of the Ortiz gang while they were at it], they heard the unmistakable sound of sirens wailing in the distance.  It should have disturbed Brittany and Bryce, but they were finally able to sleep safely and securely in their parents' arms.  A bit distracted, Donovan left one of the heavies to his brother [hoping that he didn't take a wild hair and murder him].  He was looking for Loralei and prayed that she hadn't come running into the building after Jake left her.  However, when he drew closer to his car, he saw her leaning up against it, her hand rubbing the back of her neck.  He wanted to strangle her for what she had done.  Her tenacity irritated him sometimes, but he realized he wouldn't have wanted anything less.  He was afraid that one of these days he would lose her because of that trait.

"They got out, didn't they," she asked, her voice quaking.  She had heard the reports from the weapons.

He nodded.  "They did.  They're at the front of the building waiting for the entire city of Chicago to arrive and take the bad guys away.  Kara is holding onto them all."

She let out a long, relieved sigh.  "Thank God," she whispered.  "I'm the one who summoned the troops."

He approached her, nearly standing right up against her, and his hand came out to her cheek.  "Goddamn it, Loralei.  I was certain that I was going to lose you, my brother, his wife, and our niece and nephew all in the same night.  Why do you do such insane things?"

"I don't know," she said.  For no reason at all, she began to cry.  "I…I just don't know."

"I would tell you not to do it again, but you wouldn't listen, would you," he commented lightly and then kissed her forehead.  "Come on," he said as he took her hand.  "The whole crew should go to the ER."

*  *  *

After turning over his 'charge' to the first officer on the scene, Farron focused his attention back on his wife and children.  He stood next to Kara, his body pressed against hers.  He couldn't get close enough to her; he was almost afraid that if he let go of her or Brittany for an instant, she and the twins would disappear.

"I want to go home," Kara sighed tiredly.  

Farron nodded as he put his arm around her shoulders.  She looked as exhausted as he felt. "I know, but I think we should take the babies to the hospital."

Kara leaned against him for support.  "You're right, baby.  I'll go find a phone and call Doctor Berger and ask him to meet us at the hospital."

He gripped her shoulder in response.  He wasn't letting her out of his sight for the rest of the night, possibly not for the rest of the week.  "No need," he assured her as he nodded toward a group of approaching policemen.

"Caught this little chippie fleeing the scene, Donovan," Stu announced, hauling into view the young girl who had been caring for the twins.

"Yeah, she aided Ortiz," Farron snarled.  His grip tightened protectively on his daughter.  Kara drew even closer to him and he was sure she did the same with Bryce.  "Get her out of my sight."

"You heard the man," Stu yelled, shoving the girl off into the clutches of Officer Creecy, who was more than happy to remove the woman from their friend's presence.

"Stu," Kara began, glancing at the cell phone fixed to his belt  "Can I borrow your phone?"

"Sure, Kara…" 

She thanked him and then went about the business of calling the Everett family physician. 

*  *  *

Unusually, the ER wasn't that crowded.  It didn't take long to get in and the attending physician decided it might be a good idea to admit Loralei.  Her head had been smacked pretty hard and she had a concussion.  She wasn't happy about having to stay overnight, but she didn't argue about it much.  Donovan left her at one point and when he returned, he heard her voice mingled and mixed with Alex's and Kara's.  Whatever they were talking about must have been something, because they were laughing heartily.  The moment Donovan stepped up to the doorway, their laughter dried up and the conversation stopped.  However, their eyes gleamed almost…wickedly.

"Why do I feel as if the three of you are scheming," he asked with a crooked smile.

"That's because we usually are," Loralei said with her own smile.

First Alex and then Kara gave her a kiss on the cheek.  "Hold down the fort, okay," Kara said lightly as she walked past her brother in-law.  

Donovan watched as the smiling women exited Loralei's hospital room.  He approached her bedside and sat down.  "What was that all about," he asked suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing," she said innocently.  "Everyone is just really…really happy, that's all."

"You're bullshitting me, LD," he said, not unkindly.

"Maybe…maybe not," she told him, intentionally mocking his patented eyebrow lift.  

"You drive me up the wall sometimes," he told her.  "But I don't know what I'd do without you."

She laid her hand on his leg.  "Don't get all sexy on me in public, not if you know what's good for you." 

--To be continued…


	12. Epilogue Normalcy is Good

NORMALCY IS GOOD

After spending a couple of hours in the hospital emergency room while Doctor Berger gave the twins a thorough examination, Farron was beyond thrilled to be home with his family.  Brittany and Bryce were given a clean bill of health and Farron thought he could finally relax.  He and Kara were worried about Loralei, who had been kept in the hospital overnight, but they had been assured that it was only for observation.

Hearing a loud sigh, he propped himself up on his elbow in their large master bed.  The lights had been dimmed and Kara had been so quiet that he thought she had fallen asleep.  He reached over and touched her cheek softly, receiving a loving smile from her as a reward.  Brittany and Bryce were lying between them, sleeping soundly.  He and Kara had started to put them down for the night in their crib, but somehow couldn't bear to leave them.  So, they lifted them back out of the crib and brought them into their bed.  Kara rested her hand on Brittany's back, offering her comfort when she appeared to become agitated in her sleep.  Farron lifted her hand from the baby up to his lips and kissed it tenderly.  

"I know you're exhausted, _querida_.  Please sleep," he urged softly.  

"I can't seem to drift off…I'm afraid I'll wake up to the reality that the nightmare is still going on," she admitted, lifting up onto her elbow.  

"I promise you, it's over."  He gazed into her eyes for the longest time; she seemed so lost.  "Talk to me."

Kara relaxed back down onto the mattress.  She had decided earlier she would never let Farron know that she had witnessed him stealing that car that night, or that his whole transformation into Mateo Luis had shaken her down to her foundation.  She didn't want to burden him with any more guilt or misery.  He…they…had experienced enough in the past few days to last several lifetimes.  But as much as she didn't want to bring the subject up, she was afraid that he would somehow find out she had seen him.  She didn't want that between them; it was too close to a lie and she had discovered enough of those lately.  If Loralei inadvertently mentioned the car theft, then he would know she had been holding something back from him.  "I…we…saw you when you left the house…the car you stole."

"I see…"

"No, no.  I don't think you do," she said quickly, cutting him off before he could begin defending his actions.  That wasn't what it was about; she was not judging him.  "It wasn't the car, Farron.  It was…the hair, your demeanor, the way you turned yourself off and…"

"Became someone else?"

"Yes," she whispered.  "It threw me…and it frightened me."

He lowered his eyes for a moment before answering her.  "It was the only way I could handle it," he explained in hushed tones so as not to wake the twins.  "I could never willingly leave you, I'm not strong enough.  Mateo is…ruthless."

"But, you are Mateo," she whispered.  It surprised her the way he spoke about Mateo as though he were a separate person, although she thought she understood where his mindset was.

"Sadly, yes."  He eased back down onto the mattress and rested his head on the pillow.  "And I realized, while I was trying to be what I once was, that I can no longer be that man.  Too much has changed in my life to allow it."

Kara slid her hand into his and their fingers entwined.  "I'm not saying this to upset you, but I don't want anything lingering between us.  You frightened me tonight."

"No…" he whispered a protest.  It broke his heart to know his wife was afraid of him.

She squeezed his hand lightly.  "No, darling, not in the sense that you are thinking.  I was not frightened for my safety or that of the children's.  It was that you seemed able to distance yourself so completely from all that we are to each other."

Farron nodded and repositioned himself so that he was able to be closer to his wife and yet not disturb their sleeping twins.  He brushed his lips to hers tenderly.  "It may have appeared that way, but it was not.  No matter how hard I tried to keep my emotions in check, you and the children were always in my heart."

"I…love you, my darling Farron.  I thought I was never going to hold you in my arms again," she admitted, feeling the rush of tears sting her eyes.  

"I'm so sorry, but if it meant getting our angels back, my life was forfeit."

"It was a brave and valiant thing you did, Farron.  But…"  She was interrupted when he kissed her soundly. 

  
"And if you ever try something so reckless as what you and Loralei did tonight…I'll…"

A slight smile touched Kara's lips.  "You'll…what?  Spank me?"

"Maybe," he answered, chuckling softly.  

Kara laughed and touched her forehead to his.  "As long as you make it worth my while."

"When haven't I," he asked playfully.  

"Never, that I can recall," she answered truthfully.  "But…there's always a first time for everything.  Let's see how you measure up next time."

Farron lifted a brow as he studied his wife for a moment.  "A challenge then?  Are you sure you'll be up to it?"

"The question is not if I will be," she teased.

"Oh you'll pay for that, love."  

Kara giggled, feeling as though things were right between them again.  "I look forward to it," she assured him, glancing down at the twins.  "And when you come for payment…I'll be ready."

"Such innuendos from my sweet wife."  He grinned and kissed her again.  "I'll have you begging."

"I have no doubt," she replied as she closed her eyes.

Farron watched her as she finally drifted off to sleep.  She looked at peace and for that he was thankful.  He was grateful for many things that night.  Before he drifted off to sleep, he offered a silent prayer of thanks for the safe return of his children, and for the love of his family.

*  *  *

Farron waited patiently as the passengers from Flight 394 filed past him.  It was his hope to speak to one particular airline employee.  Two days after Bryce and Brittany had been brought home, he and Kara had received two telegrams.  One was from her brother John who was currently in Europe on business.  He apologized profusely for not being there for them when they needed family.  He also assured them he was cutting his business short and would be back in Chicago as soon as he could.  Telling his niece and nephew that he loved them wasn't enough; he needed to hold them in his arms.  Farron smiled a little.  Kara's brother John was as much in love with the twins as his own family.  Family.  It was something he grew to appreciate more each day.  

The other telegram came from an unlikely source.  Carrie Thompson, the Flight Attendant he and Kara had met on their trip back from Florida.  Her thoughtfulness had touched them both immensely.  It was then that he approached his brother about her.  Ever leery, Donovan had done a complete and thorough background check on her.  Distrust had not motivated Farron, but he did have a plan.  

He looked away briefly when he heard commotion from behind him.  When he turned back to resume his search, he found himself eye to eye with Sienna Morgan.

"So, Farron…" she purred.  "So, you've sought me out, have you?  Changed your mind," she asked, running a hand seductively down his chest.  "Tired of that frigid little wifey of yours, I suppose."

Farron fought off the urge to strike her down physically.  Instead, he thought he might have a little fun with her.  He stepped forward and lowered his head until his lips were very close to her ear.  In a husky whisper, one his wife so endearingly called his bedroom voice, he said, "You would like that, wouldn't you?"  

Sienna's breath caught in her throat and a soft moan escaped her.  The man was stunningly gorgeous.  She had to have him.

"Would you like me to touch you…everywhere?  I could slip you into the men's room and take you right here in the airport.  Would you do as I say…can you be a good naughty girl?"

"I could be anything you wanted," Sienna assured him breathily.  "I'll make your dreams come true."

Farron laughed, loud and boisterous.  "I hate to disappoint you…well, actually, it's my pleasure to disappoint you…but I've come to see…" he trailed off as he brushed past her, causing her to stumble and catch herself before she fell to the floor.  "Carrie," he announced, stepping toward the friendly Flight Attendant.

"You'll pay for that," Sienna screamed at him.

Farron looked over his shoulder briefly.  "I've paid for my sins…have you?"

Carrie frowned as she watched Sienna hurry off, obviously upset and humiliated.  "Mister Donovan," she questioned.

"Hello, Carrie," he acknowledge, smiling warmly.  "Do you have a moment?  There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

"Of course," she answered hesitantly.  "This gate won't have another flight for two hours, so it should be private enough," she said, pointing to a nearby section of seats.  "What can I do for you?"

Farron smiled again, hoping to put her at ease.  It was easy to tell how nervous she was talking with him.  "I wanted to thank you, on behalf of my wife and myself, for your thoughtfulness.  It was very sweet of you to think of us."

Carrie returned his smile.  "I was very upset when I heard about what happened with the twins.  I know I only spent a few hours with you and your family, but I became very enamored with the babies.  They are very beautiful."

"Thank you.  What I wanted to discuss with you…well…would you be willing to come and work for us?  We had a rather bad experience with the last person we hired to help with the house…"

"Sir…I…"

"Before you say no, please hear me out.  I realize that taking care of a house and helping to watch over children is not the most glamorous job in the world…"

Carrie laughed.  "It's not like this job is very glamorous," she explained.  "I'm nothing more than a waitress in a traveling restaurant."

Farron's laughter joined hers.  "You have a unique way of looking at things.  Consider coming to work for us.  I promise you that we can make it worth your while."

Carrie blinked.  The last thing she expected when she awakened that morning was to get a job offer out of the blue, and from a former passenger no less.  "Why me?"

"Carrie, I watched you with the twins during that flight.  You were very good to me and my family when you didn't have to be so accommodating," he stated simply.  "I want my children to be around as much love this world can offer.  I believe you will give them nothing less."

Carrie blushed.  "You've not mentioned your wife's wishes, sir."

"First, my name is Farron, not sir.  Second, Kara was thrilled with the idea; however, if it's convenient for you, perhaps you could come for dinner tonight?  We can discuss it further then."

*  *  *

A week passed and it seemed as if all was well and…normal.  None of them thought they would be together like they were again.  When Loralei and Donovan were invited to Farron and Kara's for a leisurely cookout, they were hard pressed to turn them down.  They hadn't seen much of them since the babies came home.  Basically, Loralei and Donovan gave them their space and some room to mend whatever fences had been broken.  They were graced with a warm and sunny day as they packed up the kids and crossed their backyard.  From a distance, they could hear the excited giggles and screams of the twins.  At the sound of that, Rachel immediately wanted to see her 'Bitt and Bice.'  It had apparently been a long week for them all.  Donovan and Loralei had barely gotten properly into the yard when she demanded to be let down.  As soon as Loralei set her down on her feet, she made a beeline toward her little cousins.  Tristan, not wanting to be outdone, did his own demanding.  With a smile, Donovan set the boy down on his feet and he quickly joined his sister.  

Donovan approached his brother, nodding toward the pretty brunette standing with Kara and the twins.  _Carrie.  Her name is Carrie.  Why the hell do I have such trouble with names?  _She still seemed quite thrown by the fact that he and Farron were identical twins.  "What the hell are you cooking," Donovan asked his twin.  

Farron smiled at his brother.  "I'm sorry, Frank.  Italian food on a grill might be a bit… messy.  Maybe the next time you come over, _I'll _cook Italian."

Donovan put his hand on Farron's shoulder and squeezed it.  "Is everything going okay?"

Farron knew his brother had been worried about him and his immediate family.  The fallout of the 'Mateo' incident had been surprisingly indifferent.  Of course, it wasn't that way within the family, but with his friends and co-workers, they shrugged it off as if it were nothing.  It was bizarre, and perhaps a bit corny, but he actually felt like he was part of a community.  He had gained so many acceptances from those outside the shady realm of life.  It was something he hadn't expected.  "It is," he said with a slight nod.  "The first few days at home were a little hairy.  I don't think I slept a wink.  I was truly afraid that if I closed my eyes, someone would step in and take my children away again."

"I don't say this often enough, Farron, but I'm proud of you," Donovan told him.  

A slight frown creased Farron's brow and then quickly disappeared.  As much as he appreciated his brother's support, he truly thought his pride was unfounded.  The stunt he had pulled had been foolhardy and made a frightening situation worse, throwing both their wives into a dangerous game that could have ended all their lives.  He was less than proud of that moment in his life.  

While the brothers continued talking and arguing good-naturedly over the proper way to barbeque spare ribs, Loralei, Kara, and Carrie seated themselves on a blanket spread out on the grass.  Brittany and Bryce were in that phase where they were almost crawling but not.  They kept their mother in view and would look for their father when they heard his voice.  Rachel and Tristan soon grew tired of their cousins and set about arguing over a baby toy.  Loralei was sitting closest to Brittany and she reached out and caressed the silky thatch of hair atop her head.  As much as her children, both babies had a lot of hair.  They also enjoyed the hell out of being cuddled.  Loralei lifted up Brittany, cradling her in her arms.

"Did you ever think two goofy men like our husbands could make such beautiful babies," Loralei asked with a smile.

Kara smiled at Loralei and then noticed that Tristan was none too happy about the attention his mother was bestowing upon his cousin.  He had completely forgotten his argument with his sister.  "It's all in the genes," Kara said with a snicker.

Loralei snorted.  "Ha.  I'll say.  Thank God for that."  The two sisters in-law shared a bit of naughty, raucous laughter at that, making Carrie's face turn a bright shade of red.  Loralei stopped heehawing after a moment and focused her eyes on the girl's face.  "I'm sorry, Carrie, you have to ignore me sometimes.  I can get a little…perverted at times."

When the laughter carried over toward the men, Donovan turned and looked at his wife, sister in-law, and Carrie.  He turned back around and tapped his brother's arm.  "Do you have any idea what they're talking about?"  Their laughter carried, of course, but not their voices.  Frankly, it was driving him a little batshit.

Farron smiled a little and shook his head.  "No, I don't have any idea."  It was a white lie; one he could easily live with.  He had overheard Kara and Alex whispering at the hospital; they were already planning a baby shower.  He had asked Kara later after they were alone and, although she threatened his manhood if he spilled the beans to his brother, she had told him the happy news.

Donovan studied his brother's face.  Somehow he felt he was telling him a little fib.  "I'm sure you don't," he accused lightly.  "The look on your face tells me otherwise, brother."

Farron turned away and went back to his spare ribs.  "Frank, I'm telling the truth.  I kid you not."

"Look me in the eye and say that," he challenged.

With tongs in hand, he turned toward his brother.  "I have no idea," he said.  He was looking him straight in the eye, but it wasn't easy.  "Would you let me get back to my cooking?  If I don't eat soon, I might pass out and die."

Kara left the babies in the loving care of their aunt and Carrie before joining Farron at the grill.  She came up behind him and slid her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek between his shoulder blades as she hugged him soundly.  

He turned within her embrace after setting aside his cooking utensils.  Looking down into her clear blue eyes, he found her completely irresistible.  He had often wondered what it was about her that had allowed her into his heart and turned his world upside down.  It had all started with her eyes, he realized.  From the first moment he had met her, he had thought her eyes were amazingly beautiful.  The more he had gotten to know her, the more he realized her eyes reflected her emotions.  As much as she might try, she could not hide her feelings from him.  

He kissed her forehead before pulling her close and resting his chin atop her head.  It had been the faraway look in her eyes that had kept him from making love to her since they had returned home with Brittany and Bryce.  She was still reconciling Mateo versus Farron, even though she promised him she was more than okay with it.  He knew better; it was all in her eyes.  That distant look was now gone, and he felt his heart was going to burst from knowing his wife was truly back in his life.

Kara sighed as her hands slid down his back to rest at his hips.  She missed him more than she could explain.  She knew Farron was aware of her unease around him and she hated herself for that.  She planned to make it up to him later when they were alone.  He had not been aware of her presence that morning while he was diapering a freshly bathed Bryce.  She stood quietly in the doorway as he talked to his son, telling him how proud he was of his babies to have been so brave during their ordeal.  Bryce cooed contentedly while his daddy further explained that he had never thought he would be a daddy, or that he would ever love one woman as thoroughly as daddy loved mommy.  

It was then that Kara shook off her funk.  Farron was still Farron.  He had always had Mateo inside him; she had just never had the opportunity to _see_ that side of him.  She hoped she never did again, but she could not go on worrying that he would surface.  Farron loved her and, no matter what might arise, she knew that love would always be there.

"I miss your touch," she whispered.

Farron pulled back slightly and locked eyes with her.  He cupped the back of her neck with one hand as he dipped his head to brush his lips to hers.  "I was waiting…"

"I know," she acknowledged, her eyes focusing on his lips.  She licked hers in anticipation.  "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he insisted as his mouth covered hers hungrily.

"Hey, hey, hey," Donovan called from his seat at the table where he bounced a giggling Tristan on his knee.  "That's _not_ the cooking you're supposed to be doing, brother!"

Farron grinned at Kara as he slowly broke from the kiss.  "I beg to differ, dear brother."

Kara returned his grin.  "We'll finish this later," she assured him as she caressed his cheek.

"Count on it, love."    

After eating so much that she thought she might vomit, Loralei once again collapsed to the blanket.  Carrie insisted on cleaning up while Uncle Farron and Aunt Kara entertained the children.  Loralei had no idea what the hell they were doing, but she thought Farron was telling them a story.  Tristan and Rachel's eyes were as large as saucers.  Whatever he was saying had fascinated them beyond reach.  At the same time, he had one of his twins settled against him while Kara had the other.  Loralei turned away from the sight and buried her face into her arms.  It wasn't long before Donovan joined her.  She turned to her side and gazed up at him.  He moved in behind her and enveloped her body with his.  The weather was a bit warm for this, but right at the moment, she didn't care.  He kissed her temple gently.

"Did you get enough to eat," he asked with a smile.

"Goddamn, what do you think?  I won't eat for the rest of my life."  She moved to cover his hands with hers.  "I've never seen them so happy.  It's almost as if the twins had been born again."

He chuckled, the sound drifting down into her ear.  "I see what you mean," he told her.  "Maybe we should have another baby."  He said the words with a smile on his face and waited for her to pummel him.  She was in a good position to do it.

Instead of beating his ass, she sighed.  "Frank, do you recall that night…oh about two months ago…when you insisted on a bit of kitchen action?"

"How could I ever forget that," he asked.

She smiled at his recollection.  "Hmm, me either.  It seems that our little tryst produced some unexpected results."

Donovan, unsure of what he had heard pulled away just the slightest.  "What?"

"You heard me," she said.

"Ha ha, Loralei.  Very funny.  Come on, let's have it."

"Oh, we will," she said distractedly.  "In about seven months."

Completely confused now, he shuffled her body just the slightest so that he could look at her.  "Loralei?  Where's the punch line?  Better still, where's your fist?"

"I think I owe you some payback for locking me up in your car like a naughty Cocker Spaniel," she told him with a teasing glint in her eyes.  "I don't want to hit you with my fist, but I thought I could hit you with some news instead."

"Are you kidding?  I can never tell with you."

She kissed his lips gently.  "Bullshit.  You can too."

Throughout the rest of their get together, Loralei wouldn't confirm or deny her words.  Each time Donovan asked about it, she'd give him a vague answer or a smart-ass wisecrack.  By the time it was dark, Rachel and Tristan were ready to give in and go to bed.  Donovan took hold of Tristan while Loralei carried Rachel.  They said their goodbyes and made their way back toward home.  

"Loralei," Donovan began.

She held her finger up to her lips.  "Shh.  You'll wake up the kids."

Once they were inside the house, they carried the children upstairs and put them to bed.  By the time Tristan was down and Donovan back in his bedroom, Loralei was already in the shower.  She came out several minutes later with wet hair and had slipped on an oversized tee shirt.  He watched curiously as she sat on her side of the bed and began working the tangles out of her hair.  He stood with his hands on his hips and gazed down at her thoughtfully.

"Loralei, were you serious or are you fucking with my head?"

She combed her hair back away from her face and fixed her eyes on him.  The poor man was utterly perplexed.  It was time to let the poor bastard off the hook.  "I was and am very serious and as it turns out, very pregnant."  She noticed the stunned look on his face.  "Shocking, isn't it?"

"Goddamn it, Loralei," he said and then kneeled in front of her.  He inserted his body between her thighs.  "Another baby?"

She placed her hand on his cheek.  "Well, it won't certainly be a puppy, even if you locked me up like a Cocker Spaniel," she said with a smile.  Her smile faded a little.  "You're okay with this, right?"

"What do you think," he asked softly.  "_Of course _I'm okay with it.  I'm more than _okay_.  I'm ecstatic.  You know how I feel about having babies with you.  When…how…did you find out?"

"At the ER last week.  I hadn't quite felt like myself in a few weeks and I asked them to check.  I remember your telling me about that vision you had when you were in the hospital.  As soon as I received the news, I couldn't get that out of my mind.  It might sound stupid or even crazy, but I think she may be coming back to us, giving me…us… a second chance."

"I love you."

Although she felt tears trickling down her cheeks [_hormones be damned_], she smiled.  "Will you still love me when I'm as big as a house?"

"Always," he whispered, taking her hand off his cheek and placing a gentle kiss on her palm.  "Until I draw my last breath."              

*  *  *

After she and Carrie put the twins down for the night, Kara hooked the portable baby monitor to her wrist and made her way to the master bedroom.  She was surprised that Farron was nowhere in sight.  Worried, she went in search of him and found him in the room where they kept their odds and ends stored.  He was kneeling before a trunk, slowly piling its contents beside him.

Farron looked up at her when she approached.  "This is the remainder of my life as Mateo Luis," he explained quietly.  "It is time to say goodbye to him…forever."

Kara kneeled beside him and took his hand gently into hers.  "He'll always be a part of you, Farron.  We both know that…and it's _okay_."

"Thank you, Shel," he whispered and kissed her lightly.  "Thank you for your acceptance above all else.  You'll never know how much that means to me."  He pulled his hand from hers and touched her cheek softly before returning to his task.  "I want to do this…I need to close that chapter of my life."

Kara nodded.  "I understand, baby."  

She lifted a pile of clothing into her arms as she stood.  He took the remainder of clothing, papers, and assorted paraphernalia and led her down to the backyard and the large brick bar-b-q where he had cooked for his family just hours prior.  After removing the grill, he started a fire quite a bit larger than the one needed for cooking.  

Still completely paranoid after their ordeal, they had set the alarm on the house on their way out even though Carrie was more than capable of watching over the twins.  They just could not feel safe enough.  He reached down and took the baby monitor from Kara's wrist and turned the volume up as high as it would go.  He wanted to make sure they would hear the slightest cry if their angels needed them.  

He set the monitor on the nearby table and turned back to his task.  One by one, he and Kara placed the items from his former life on the fire and watched in fascination as they burned and faded away to nothing.  He searched his memories for one thing he might miss from that life and found that there was nothing he wanted to hold on to.  His arms encircled his wife's waist as he pulled her to him.  What he wanted to hold onto he had in his arms at that very moment.  

Kara wasn't sure how much time passed as they watched the fire dance and listened to the crackle of the wood as the flames consumed everything until there was nothing but ashes.  She turned to Farron and immediately melted into his embrace when his lips found hers.  

He sank to his knees, bringing her down with him.  His need was too great for patience or practicality; his only thought was to be buried deep inside her.  He removed his shirt and spread it on the ground behind her.  Within moments, they had shed their clothing, and, as he prepared to enter her without any ceremony whatsoever, he heard an impassioned whisper, "I love you, my beautiful Farron."  A sensual moan escaped him as he sheathed himself fully within her and felt her fingers tangle into his hair.  He smiled against the soft flesh of her neck.  He knew, as well as she did, that this was only a precursor for a night filled with passion and lovemaking.  He had not forgotten the challenge she had issued the night they had returned with the twins, but emotions ruled the first round.  Playtime would come later.  "And I love you, Shel," he replied softly as they began the timeless dance of lovers, baring their souls as well as their bodies.  Together they soared to heights unattainable by mere mortals.  Together they were as one.

~finis~

Thanks to everyone for all your support!  We truly enjoyed writing this tale and y'all have been wonderful to journey along with us.  – Marie & Shel


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